


The Pretzel Baby Job

by AthenaMay24



Series: Pretzel Baby [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Found Family, Pregnancy/kid fic, Team Dynamics, pretzel baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 71,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaMay24/pseuds/AthenaMay24
Summary: Parker finds out on a con that she's pregnant. How will this affect the team? And what if she doesn't know how to be a mother? A series of moments in time dealing with Parker and Hardison having a baby.





	1. The Doctor's Office Job

It was supposed to be a simple job. Really, it was. Just get in, find the hidden files on the corrupt small-town doctor’s computer, and get out.

Quick.

Easy.

Really.

But when was anything ever simple, quick, or easy for Leverage International?

Parker was undercover as a patient, distracting the doctor, their mark, while Eliot snuck into his office to stick one of Hardison’s magic flash drives into the doctor’s laptop. Hardison was overseeing things from Lucille, keeping up a constant commentary of annoyance as the sleazy doctor mercilessly flirted with Parker while he took blood for various tests. Parker had complained about having to get actual tests done, (after all, she was the mastermind wasn’t she and that meant she made the decisions, didn’t it?) but Hardison and Eliot together convinced her that it was the best way to keep the mark occupied.

 “So,” the doctor grinned at Parker, “Are you new in town?”

 “Oh, uh,” Parker pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, “Yeah, I’m just passing through.”

 “Well,” the doctor placed a hand on Parker’s arm, “Maybe I’ll see you around town.”

 Parker forced herself to smile, “Yeah, maybe you will.”

 Hardison grumbled into the coms, but Eliot and Parker just ignored him. Eliot slipped into the exam room as the doctor was leaving.

 “Great,” Parker jumped up, “Let’s get out of here.”

 Eliot just shook his head, “Nope. If he suspects that we’re the ones who took the file, then the whole con’s ruined. We leave and it looks suspicious. You know that.”

 Parker out blew a short burst of air and sank back down onto the exam chair. “I know, I know. As long as they don’t stick me again.”

 “You’ll be out of there before you know it, mama,” Hardison said, “Eliot, you can go ahead and bring me the drive and I can get started on it out here in Lucille while we wait for Parker’s results.”

 “On my way,” Eliot started out the door, but he was stopped by a nurse bouncing in the room.

 “I’ve got great news!” the nurse sing-songed, gripping a file so tightly that it was visibly wrinkling.

 Parker made a face at her tone, shaking her head in a way that reminded Eliot of a dog reacting to a dog whistle (and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if Parker could hear dog whistles; it would explain a lot).

 “She’s healthy, then?” Eliot asked, raising his eyebrows at the nurse like he was talking to a small child.

 The nurse beamed at them, “She’s better than healthy. She’s pregnant!”

 Eliot froze.

 Parker could feel the burden of his gaze, and could hear the nurse blathering about how the other tests wouldn’t be done for a few more minutes but they run the pregnancy test first and when she saw that it was positive she couldn’t wait to come tell them the news because that’s one of her favorite parts of her job and why are you getting up and where are you going and are you okay, miss?

 Parker didn’t know she’d left the room until she felt Eliot’s hand clamp around her arm, pulling her to a stop in the hallway.

 “Parker,” he said quietly. “Slow down.”

Parker tried to answer, but as soon as she opened her mouth she had to suck in a breath. Why hadn’t she been breathing? Breathing is important. It’s probably even more important when you’ve got a baby inside of you and—

Parker sank to the ground, right there in the hallway, unable to catch her breath. Over the buzzing in her ears she heard Eliot’s voice over her shoulder and dully registered that he’d crouched down next to her.

"Parker!” Eliot said again. Dammit! He pressed the com deeper into his ear, “Hardison? Hardison, I think your girlfriend could use your input on this!”

 Hardison was silent.

 “I have to get out of here—go—I—”,” Parker mumbled, and Eliot looked at her sharply. She couldn’t meet his eyes, her hand resting uncertainly on her stomach. “I have to—”

 She was gone.

 “Dammit!” Eliot jumped up almost as fast as Parker had, but if the thief didn’t want to be caught, there wasn’t a person on earth who could keep up with her. Eliot tried to follow her down the hallway, but there was no sign of her in the waiting room. Maybe she went to the van. “Hardison?” he said again, bursting his way out of the doctor’s office and heading towards Lucille a few blocks away.

Eliot threw open the van’s back doors. Hardison was inside, frozen, one hand stuck in the air between his keyboard and his face, as if he couldn’t even function enough to bring it all the way up to cover his mouth. Hardison didn’t react to Eliot at first, taking a beat before he turned, achingly slow, to lock eyes with his friend.

Eliot immediately felt a little bad for yelling at him. He’d been too busy dealing with Parker to consider that this news must be just as much of a shock for Hardison. “You okay?” Eliot asked, hauling himself up and into Lucille, closing the doors behind him.

“Parker,” Hardison finally got out. “Where’s Parker?”

“I don’t know, man, I thought she’d come back here,” Eliot ran a hand through his hair.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Hardison demanded, and then said into the coms, “Parker? Parker! Come on, talk to me, mama.”

Eliot listened to Hardison plead into the coms, absently slipping his hand into his pocket.

“Parker? Parker? Baby girl?”

Eliot’s fingers closed around something. “She’s not going to answer you,” he said, shaking his head.

“How do you know? You thought she’d come here, which she obviously didn’t, so what do you know about what Parker is or isn’t going to do, huh?” Panic was edging its way into Hardison’s voice.

Eliot held up the com that Parker had slipped into his pocket without him noticing. “Because she doesn’t want to be found.”

 

~o0o~

 

“How the hell could you let this happen?” Hardison asked, jaw clenched, eyes forward as he nudged Lucille into traffic.

“Me?” Eliot protested, “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who knocked her up.”

Hardison gritted his teeth and didn’t respond.

They’d spent an hour looking for her at the doctor’s office and in the small town. The only sign that she’d ever been there was Eliot’s missing car. Finally, Eliot convinced Hardison that the best thing for them to do was return to the brew pub, where she could find them when she was ready. Hardison had looked at him with those scared eyes and asked the question that Eliot had been avoiding at all costs: what if she’s never ready?

There was no denying that Parker had no idea how to handle most of life’s normal, human situations, let alone the universe’s spiteful plot twists, but it was just as obvious how far she’d come in the six years since she’d found her family. Despite the way she’d opened up to her team, there were still moments when she reverted to that emotionless thief, nothing more than what Archie created (her Vulcan days, as Hardison privately called them), moments when she was that empty little girl again, all alone.

And then Hardison would smile at her, and let her pick the movie even if he hated it, and Eliot would cook her something sugary and covered in chocolate, and their girl would come back, thanks to gentle nudges that reminded her that she had a family.

Neither of them knew what this news would do to her.

Hardison was avoiding thinking about it. He threw himself into the search for Parker, yelling at Eliot even though he knew that it wasn’t the hitter’s fault, anything to keep from considering that that was his kid in Parker’s belly. His _kid._

He was lying if he said he hadn’t thought about having children. But it was always in that wistful way that he lamented his lack of deep space travel opportunities, even after he met Parker and realized that she was the partner he would want next to him if he ever got the chance to raise a brood of his own. Hardison knew that Parker wasn’t prepared to be a mother, so he’d never brought it up, figuring that when (if) they ever retired he could broach the subject of fostering. He thought that she’d be more open to that idea, even if he’d always privately admired her way with kids like those Serbian orphans or the ones in the mall at Christmas or the daughter of the pizza restaurant owner they’d helped during the Moscone case back in LA, and daydreamed about how great it would be to get to watch her with his kid.

His kid.

Eliot had kept quiet most of the drive back into Portland, but he finally spoke up. It was his job to protect the team, but that sometimes meant he had to be the one to ask the hard questions. “What,” Eliot stopped, waiting until Hardison glanced over at him, “What if she doesn’t want to keep it?”

_Not an it. His kid was not an it._

Hardison didn’t speak, keeping his eyes straight ahead and praying that the hitter couldn’t see that he was blinking away tears.

Eliot seemed to accept that Hardison wasn’t going to answer him, so he faced forward again, sending up more than a few prayers of his own.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker stole Eliot’s car on autopilot (not that it was that hard to steal, since she had her own set of keys to the thing). She didn’t remember any of the drive back to Portland, which probably wasn’t very safe, and she should probably stop taking unnecessary risks when another life depended on her now—

There was a baby inside of her. A baby.

Hardison’s baby.

Parker pushed her way through the brew pub to the back rooms, taking a breath and steadying herself with one hand on the top of their lighted counter, resting the other lightly on her stomach. Her hand had been fluttering down to sit there ever since the nurse had told her she was pregnant.

Pregnant.

With Hardison’s baby.

What were you supposed to do with a baby?

What would Hardison do with a baby?

Parker frowned. Hardison called his tech gadgets his babies sometimes. What did he do with those?

Besides using them for hacking and things, he spent most of his time talking to them (though it was usually more frustrated yelling than anything else). Did people talk to babies before they were born?

Probably. It was worth a shot, regardless.

Parker took a deep breath. “Hello, baby,” she said uncertainly, but she felt less self-conscious about it than she expected to. “I’m your mother, though you probably already knew that. Did you know that? Can you differentiate between voices? Can you even hear? I guess I’ll have to ask Sophie. You’ll like Sophie, baby. She’ll teach you about feelings and normal people stuff. I—I know that that’s usually a mother’s job, but I—” Parker stopped, feeling the hot prick of tears. Her breath shuddered. “I probably won’t be a very good mother, baby. That’s why Sophie will have to help you. Or Eliot, he’s perceptive and good at explaining things. Eliot says that I’m crazy—they all do. My foster parents, the social workers, everyone. So—” Parker let out a single sob, trying to ignore the fact that she couldn’t control her breathing like she usually could. Anyone can learn to hold their breath.

She forced herself to keep talking, anything to keep herself from panicking like she had in the doctor’s hallway. “I’m probably too crazy to be your mother. But that’s okay, baby, because you’ll have Sophie to help you when you have feelings you don’t understand and you can go to Eliot when you need food or need him to beat somebody up, or offer to kill somebody because they made you cry. And Nate can teach you how to think, and can tell you he’s proud of you, and he’ll always believe in you and your abilities even if you don’t believe in yourself, and Hardison—” Parker stopped again.

Hardison.

Parker clenched her hand tighter around her stomach, balling up the front of her shirt in her fist.

“Hardison is your dad. He’s going to be a great dad. He can teach you about computers and geek stuff and he can show you that people aren’t bad, that there are good people out there, really really good ones, people who will wait for you if you need it, and won’t hurt you, and will understand when you say pretzels, and will tell you that normal is whatever works for you and—” Parker took a deep breath, the first real breath she’d taken since she found out about the baby. “You’ll love him, baby. More than money or stealing things, or cereal or whatever else it is that you like. You’ll love him even if you still can’t tell him that.”

Parker slowly sank onto one of the tall chairs, breathing now steady, voice clear and calm. No more tears or hesitation. “Hardison is your dad, and that means that nothing bad is ever going to happen to you. He’s going to keep you safe.”

She was still sitting there when Hardison banged through the doors twenty minutes later.

“Parker, thank God,” Hardison threw his arms around her shoulders. She didn’t react, just sat still in her chair, the way she would when they first met and she liked him enough to let him touch her, but not enough to hug him back. “You scared me, girl.” Hardison pulled back to look at her, holding her face between his hands, “Are you okay?”

Parker chewed on her lip for a second and just looked at him, _really_ looked at the man who was probably as scared as she was, the man who didn’t run away, but had spent all afternoon looking for her, to make sure she was okay. He was worried about her, she could tell by the way he was holding her face, just like he did when she said things about how she had to be light or she’d die, or when she ran with the bomb full of flu and he thought he was going to lose her.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

And whatever you do, don’t get off the phone.

“I don’t know how to be a mother,” Parker said.

“O-okay,” Hardison seemed to reorient himself, and then he said softly, “I don’t know how to be a dad, either.”

Parker blew air through her teeth, “You know how to be a person. You had Nana to teach you how to be a person. A person can be a dad.”

“You’re just as much of a person as I am.”

“No!” Parker cut him off, frustrated with his attempts to make her feel better. He didn’t understand. “I was never taught how to be a person. That’s what parents do, right? They teach you how to act human. I never had that. So I’m gonna screw up. You said,” Parker hesitated, “You said you like how I turned out, but that doesn’t mean that I want our child to be stuck like me.”

“Parker,” Hardison said her name so gently that Parker thought for a second that her ears were buzzing again. Hardison was about to cry. He shouldn’t cry. He should be happy.

“You want a kid, though, right?” Parker asked, searching his face.

“Babe—”

“You want a kid, right?” Parker repeated louder. “I thought you did. And if you do, then. . .” she took a deep breath, “Then this is a good thing, right? I want this to be a good thing.”

Hardison smiled a little, “I want this to be a good thing too, baby girl. You’re right, I do want a kid. Didn’t mean for it to happen like this, but,” he shrugged, “You take what you can get, right?”

“I’m going to try, Alec,” Parker said, “I just—I need you.”

“I’m right here, mama,” Hardison pulled her to him again, and this time she wrapped her arms around him, “I got you, remember? I got you, and I got our baby, too.”

“I know,” Parker stuck her nose in the spot where his neck met his shoulder, “I know you do.”

It was a long time before Hardison let her go.

“You said at least I had Nana, right?” Hardison asked

Parker nodded uncertainly.

“Then why don’t I take you to meet her?” Hardison suggested, “Then you can have her too.”

Parker bit her lip, and then nodded again. “Yeah, that—that would be nice.”

Hardison smiled, “Great. Why don’t we head up to bed? I can schedule a real doctor’s appointment tomorrow and call Nana about coming to visit.”

“Okay,” Parker stood up, letting Hardison pull her under his arm and lead her upstairs. They’d figure this out, together. Hardison was always there when she wanted him.

And he was especially there when she needed him.


	2. The Nana Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardison takes Parker to meet Nana, in the hopes that she can help relieve some of her fears about the baby.

What is a mother?

Sometimes a mother is the one that’s always in your corner, the one that is proud of you no matter what, the one with faults of her own that she overcomes to give you the best life she can. Sometimes a mother is the one that tucks you into bed and kisses away your nightmares, even when she’s living a nightmare of her own. Sometimes a mother is a mother and a father all rolled up together. Sometimes a mother is just the woman who gave birth to you, and nothing more, and sometimes a mother wasn’t even there when you were born, but stepped up to the plate when no one else would.

And, sometimes, a mother is a frequently sick divorcee who almost never has enough money, but spends every cent on her foster kids even if she has to skimp on her own medical bills, who never let her foster children fall into pity parties about their lack of parents or money, who would smack them on the head if they ever tried to feel sorry for themselves, because, as she put it, “You know that God gave you your own brain and your own talent (I’m looking at you, Alec, don’t think I can’t hear that sass) and you can either use what the Lord gave you or sit around on your ass and whine about what everybody else has. I’m not about to let you waste yourself, not while you’re under my roof.”

Sometimes, a mother is a Nana.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker studied the house in front of her. A nice, normal looking house. One story, garage wide open, bikes spilling out—no, the bikes weren’t worth much, and there wasn’t a car to boost anyway.

Why wasn’t there a car?

Probably parked around back. Driveway extends around the side of the house, but two large flowering bushes hide the majority of the yard. A fence peeks over the top of the foliage, indicating the possibility of guard dogs, but—

No. No barking, no whiff of dog poop, plus the neighbor’s cat seemed extremely friendly with the bushes for there to be dogs about.

Good, that means it’s less likely she’ll be detected.

It’s broad daylight, but that can’t be helped.

An average family home, where you’d typically get a moderate haul. There weren’t diamonds or a cash stash, but there would probably be at least two televisions, laptops (though, if it was true that an older woman lived here, there might only be a desktop. _Eww._ Parker wrinkled her nose), and since there were kids, probably at least one video came console. Oh, and don’t forget things like wallets, cell phones and cookie jar money.

Get in (windows, back door, even the chimney) and get out (garage door would be the best bet, considering the access to bikes if she needed a getaway and her car on the street was compromised). It would take approximately seven minutes, longer if she wanted both TVs. Less if she had help.

_Quick and light._

Parker looked over at the man beside her.

If Hardison knew she’d figured out how to rob his Nana in the time it’d taken him to park the car and walk up the drive, he’d probably be appalled. She couldn’t help but case the place.

She wouldn’t have his help in this theoretical heist. More than seven minutes, then.

Not that she was going to rob Nana.

She didn’t do that anymore.

Hardison took her hand, and all her dirty little thief thoughts disappeared.

“How you doing, mama?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Parker chewed her lip, keeping her eyes on that green front door. It was such a normal front door. “I’m okay.”

“You still feel funny?” Hardison was pointedly avoiding looking at the door, as if it would open as soon as he let his gaze slip over to it. He looked at Parker instead, though he was almost always looking at Parker, either her or his computer screen. Parker didn’t mind, not like she used to.

“Just a little,” Parker frowned, the hand that wasn’t firmly in Hardison’s flicked briefly to her stomach before dropping back down to her side. She needed to stop doing that. It could give away the pregnancy, and if the bad guys figured it out . . .

“Hey,” Hardison slipped his hand up to tickle through her hair so she finally looked over at him. “We don’t have to do this. It was just an idea, so you can see that mothers come in all shapes and sizes. We can get back in the car, and I’ll call Nana and tell her you got sick. I mean, you _were_ sick earlier, eight weeks and morning sickness ain’t no joke, so we can—”

“It’s too late for that,” Parker interrupted, nodding in the direction of the house, without looking away from him. “Someone in that house knows we’re here. The curtains have been twitching since you parked the car.”

That finally got Hardison to drag his eyes over to the door, which flew open. (Looks like someone _had_ been waiting on him to turn that way.)

A sharp silhouette filled the doorway, bony angles, fists on sharp hips, pointy elbows framing a slight body, all guarded by a piercing gaze that Parker could feel weigh on her skin even from all the way across the yard. Silver curls fell on either side of her face, coming to rest on the collar of her purple dress.

 _Quick and light_.

Parker took a deep breath.

“You have to come on a Sunday afternoon, when we’re barely back from church, somewhere I doubt you’ve been in a while, and then you’re going to lollygag in the yard?” A single eyebrow edged up the woman’s face. “Didn’t I raise you better than that, Alec Hardison?”

Hardison cleared his throat, letting go of Parker to approach the front steps, hands surprisingly formal and clasped behind his back. “Yes, ma’am, you did.”

Parker hovered hesitatingly over Hardison’s shoulder, standing right behind him and grabbing his hands with both of hers.

Nana suddenly smiled, and the intimidating angles softened until she looked like a normal squishy person. (Parker preferred all of her people to be squishy. If they were squishy it was easier to steal from them, plus squishy is better for emotions. Nate got squishier the more he drank, and Sophie was almost always squishy. Eliot was never fully squishy, but he got squishier when he looked at her, especially since they found out she was pregnant. Hardison was always the perfect level of squishiness, but when she’d told him that once he’d gotten upset and started working out with Eliot).

Nana pulled Hardison into a hug (squishy is better for hugs, too), forcing Parker to let go of him again.

“Hey, Nana,” Hardison smiled, “I missed you.”

Nana pushed him away to give him a little glare, “That’s entirely your fault, Alec. We’ve been right here where you left us.”

Hardison cleared his throat and looked away from Nana, back to where Parker was standing, tensed, slightly on tiptoes in the grass.

_Quick and light._

_I got you._

Hardison gestured from Parker to Nana, “Uh, Nana, this is Parker.”

_I got you, girl._

Parker smiled at Nana, eyes darting to Hardison every few seconds.

Nana walked forward, stepping fully off of the front steps for the first time to meet Parker in the grass. She looked the thief up and down, and then stuck out her hand for Parker to shake.

Parker did, barely hesitating. Nana’s hand was cool and calloused and reminded her of Hardison’s. Nana had good thief hands, and nice spindly fingers, perfect for getting in and out of places without anyone noticing.

Nana released Parker’s right hand and grabbed her left, bringing it up to her face to inspect. Parker wrinkled her nose.

She’d done that right. It was a handshake. She knew how to do a handshake.

Hardison’s concerned face made her doubt it, though.

“She’s my girlfriend, Nana,” Hardison said, and Nana dropped Parker’s hand.

The old lady hmphed, “That seems silly.”

Parker frowned.

“You brought her here,” Nana continued, “And if you brought her here to meet your Nana, then you must think she’s the one.”

“We haven’t really discussed marriage yet,” Hardison said, reaching over and drawing Parker to him, wrapping his arm around her.

Nana eyed Parker critically, “Does she speak?”

Hardison opened his mouth, probably afraid that Nana’s bluntness would upset Parker, but Parker smiled a real, unforced smile. She liked bluntness almost as much as squishiness.

“I speak,” she said, “I speak more than Eliot, and less than Sophie, depending on whether or not I’ve had too much chocolate.”

Parker noticed that Hardison was holding his breath. (He really shouldn’t do that, not when he had a phobia of suffocating).

Nana just nodded. “Good. Speak your mind, girl, especially when Alec needs some sense knocked into him.”

Hardison made a protesting noise, but Nana ignored him.

“Y’all come on inside before the skeeters get you,” she said, waving them towards the door.

“Skeeters?” Parker asked Hardison under her breath as they followed Nana inside, imagining something like a cross between a bear and an alligator riding a skateboard.

“Mosquitoes,” Hardison clarified, which was disappointingly less intimidating than a bear-gator-skater hybrid.

“Come on in and sit down,” Nana shooed them towards the couch.

“Where are Beck and Julie?” Hardison asked as he took a seat, pulling Parker down with him and keeping his arm comfortably around her shoulders.

Parker glanced around the living room. A couch, two chairs, a television on the mantle (a large and fancy one, more difficult to transport, but worth more money), and several potted plants in the corner. Four doors (front and back that lead outside—escape—one to the kitchen, and one down a hall where there were potentially more valuables) and several windows, but only two that would work for an easy getaway, plus one she could break if she absolutely had no other choice. Vents in a home are always much too small to be useful.

 “Last I checked, they were changing out of their church clothes, but they’re probably fiddling with that stupid game—” the end of Nana’s sentence was drowned out by thumping and shouts from down the hall, and then two teenaged heads popped into the room.

“Alec!” the younger one—a girl—squealed and threw herself across the room towards Hardison, who barely stood in time to catch her hug.

Parker blinked. The girl had no jewelry other than a tarnished silver ring, no wallet on her person (though that wasn’t surprising since she was in her own home) and a seemingly endless amount of energy.

“Hey, Julie, what’s up, girl?” Hardison asked when Julie released him. She babbled for a minute about one boy and then another and then some girl and somebody with a gender ambiguous name and somehow they all had to do with a birthday cake and a music festival. Parker lost track halfway through and shook her head like a dog shaking off water, making a face, but Hardison appeared to be following the entire convoluted story. “Well, just let me know when you’re ready to stick it to her, and I’ll have the tickets ready,” he said when Julie finished.

Julie squealed again and pulled him close for another hug, squeaking out more than a few thank-yous.

The teenage boy edged closer to Hardison when Julie let him go for the second time. “Hey, Alec.”

“Hey, man,” Hardison held out his hand and the two exchanged an unnecessarily elaborate handshake. “It’s been a minute. How you doing, brother?”

The boy shrugged, “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“You still dating the redhead?” Hardison asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

The boy blushed and nodded.

Hardison chuckled, and turned to Parker, “This is Julie and Beck, Nana’s last two foster kids,” he said, “Guys, this is Parker.”

Julie squinted at Parker, “You’re Alec’s girlfriend.”

Parker smiled, “Yep. It’s nice to meet you.”

Julie cocked her head to the side, “Alec always did have a thing for blondes.”

“Not cool!” Hardison crossed his arms, “No need for all that. Not cool at all.”

Parker smiled wider. Hardison is cute when he’s embarrassed.

Beck and Julie were not done teasing him.

“That’s true,” Beck said, “There was that one girl, remember her?”

“And don’t forget about how he drooled after Khaleesi, Mother of Dragons,” Julie added. Parker admired the mischievous look in her eyes.

“Her name is Daenerys,” Parker said, “He gets mad if you call her just Khaleesi.”

Beck snorted, “Of course he does.”

“Hey!” Hardison protested, “I’m standing right here.”

Julie perked up (Parker hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get any perkier). “Oh, Alec, this is actually perfect timing!” she said, latching onto Hardison’s arm. “We need your help.”

“Yeah,” Beck nodded, “Nana got us this new gaming system, but we can’t get it hooked up.”

“And I’m next to useless when it comes to that stuff,” Nana added, and her distaste when she said ‘that stuff’ reminded Parker of Eliot.

“Come help us!” Beck begged.

“Please?” Julie drew the word out until Hardison held up his hands in a surrender.

“Okay, okay,” he shot a look at Parker, but she nodded at him that she’d be fine on her own. Besides, she’d already calculated the various escape routes, so she had nothing to worry about.

Hardison let Julie pull him out of the room, Beck trailing impatiently behind them.

“I didn’t buy that game, you know,” Nana spoke up from her chair, folding her arms over her stomach. “Alec didn’t want them to know that it came from him.”

Parker smiled. Of course Hardison bought them the game. “That sounds like him.”

Nana’s eyes rested on Parker a moment longer, and then she let them wander around the room. “He bought us this house, too, six years ago. Tried to move us into some oversized place in a snooty neighborhood, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I can’t have these kids getting spoilt, I told him, and besides, the bigger the house, the more I have to clean, and my knees aren’t what they used to be,” Nana stopped speaking, attention zeroed in on Parker again. “Did you know he bought us the house?”

Parker shook her head, “We’d just met, six years ago, so I doubt he’d have told me.” Parker had always known that Hardison’s score from their first job went to something more than just his screens and gadgets. “He does good without trying, so I’m not surprised.”

Nana chuckled, “Oh, yes, you are.” Parker started to protest, but Nana spoke over her. “You’re not surprised that Alec is a good man, you’re surprised that he wanted anything to do with us after he got out of here, that he had a foster home worth all of the things that he’s given us.”

“I’m not surprised that Beck and Julie are worth it,” Parker said carefully. The kids are always worth it.

“So, it’s me, then,” Nana leaned back in her chair, “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“Them?”

“You grew up in the system.”

Parker looked away from Nana’s unwavering scrutiny, uncomfortable with how easily the older woman picked her apart. “Didn’t work out as well for me as it did for Alec, that’s all,” Parker said, still not meeting Nana’s eyes, “My foster parents weren’t like you. Alec’s told me a lot about you, and I know that you’re different, and good, but—” Parker let out a breath, “It’s just hard to believe, after all I’ve seen.”

Nana nodded once, “I’m sorry, child.”

Parker shrugged, biting her lip. She thought about her string of foster parents before she finally ran away, and about the older kids that could have been there for her, kids like Kelly, who ended up abandoning her to save their own skins. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened to Hardison if he’d had to endure what she had. Because without Hardison being the way he was, she wouldn’t have had anyone to save her.

Parker was different from Hardison. He was good without trying. He’d do the right thing no matter what, all because of this woman.

“Thank you,” Parker stumbled over the words.

Nana looked surprised, which Parker could tell was no small feat, “What?”

“Thank you for Alec,” Parker looked down at her hands twisted together in her lap. “For what you did for him. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have him, so—thank you.”

Nana got out of her chair and came to sit on the couch next to Parker. Parker didn’t move away, but she didn’t look at Nana, either.

“Every time I meet a kid I didn’t get to help, I regret not finding them sooner. But it’s never too late,” Nana patted Parker’s leg, and Parker found she didn’t mind the touch. “You can call me Nana too, if you want.”

Parker looked up sharply, finally meeting the older woman’s eyes. She nodded, letting herself smile.

“He’s good to you, then?” Nana asked after a minute of comfortable silence.

Parker blinked, “Yeah, of course he is.”

Nana nodded, “Good.”

Parker frowned at her, “Didn’t you know that? You said it yourself, he takes care of people.”

“I know, child,” Nana patted Parker’s leg again. “A mother just has to check these things.”

Parker filed that information away for later.

“He’s a better man than I could have hoped for,” Parker said quietly.

Before either of them could say anything else, there were shouts from down the hall, and then Hardison sauntered into the room and sprawled in the chair Nana had been in earlier. “Game is all hooked up,” he said, looking carefully from Parker to Nana, “How you ladies doing?”

“We’re good,” Parker smiled at him, knowing full well that he was checking up on her.

“Of course she’s fine,” Nana rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to eat her, Alec.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hardison relented, holding his hands up, but he didn’t take his eyes off Parker.

Nana hmphed, and then said, “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”

Parker and Hardison exchanged glances.

“Ma’am?” Hardison asked carefully.

“Don’t you ma’am me with that fake-ignorant look on your face, Alec Hardison,” Nana said, standing up and crossing her arms. “You’re here for something. It’s obviously not to tell me you’re engaged, so what is it?”

Hardison started to deny that there was a special reason for their visit, “Can’t a guy just bring his girl to meet his Nana for no other reason than—”

Nana reared up to call his bluff.

“I’m pregnant,” Parker blurted.

Faster than any woman her age had the right to, Nana swiped a magazine off the coffee table, rolled it up, and began beating Hardison over the head with it.

Parker started to stand up.

Hardison tried to duck Nana’s swatting the first few times, but then he stopped and let her pop him, giving Parker an I-told-you-so glare.

Hardison had suggested they wait a while before telling Nana the news, and soften her up first, but Parker had thought that it was fine to go ahead and tell her, since she’d been so nice earlier. Parker certainly hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Did I teach you anything, boy? What the hell were you thinking?” Nana demanded, giving him one final smack with the magazine before putting her hands on her hips, looming over him. “Didn’t I raise you better than that?”

“Better than what?” Parker asked, still half-standing.

Nana didn’t turn or acknowledge that she’d spoken other than to say, “Better than to show up on my doorstep with a girl he went and got pregnant.”

Hardison was annoyed. “It’s not like I knocked up some girl off the street. Parker and I are two consenting adults in a committed relationship. We’re financially self-sufficient, and frankly have more than enough money to support any number of children. What’s so wrong with having a baby?”

“What’s wrong with marriage first?” Nana countered.

“It’s my fault we’re not married,” Parker broke in, not wanting Nana and Hardison to fight, “Not Hardison’s. He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s—he’s _good_. He waited for me for years, and he never pushed me or asked me for anything more than I could give, which is why he hasn’t asked me to marry him. We didn’t plan on the baby, but we’re both happy about it, and it doesn’t change any of our plans, not really.”

The room was quiet for a beat.

 _Quick and light_.

Hardison smiled, “She knows that, babe.”

Parker frowned. “What?”

Nana faced Parker for the first time since she’d blurted the news. “I have to yell at him,” she said, “He knows the rules I gave him, he knows I expect marriage to come first. I don’t doubt he’ll do the right thing by you and your baby.”

“Oh.” Parker’s eyebrows scrunched together.

Nana moved towards the hallway, hollering for Beck and Julie. They didn’t answer, so she took off down the hall, grumbling about video games distracting young people from their duties.

Hardison came over to sit by Parker, and she let her herself relax into him.

“So, she’s not mad?” Parker whispered.

“No,” Hardison smiled, kissing Parker’s forehead. “No, she’s really happy.”

 

~o0o~

 

Nana managed to get Parker alone again about an hour later. It was Sunday, which meant Sunday dinner, which apparently, in Nana’s house, meant the kids cook the meal. Nana needled Hardison into helping Beck and Julie in the kitchen (“You’re one of my children too, Alec, whether you’re still a kid or not!”) so she and Parker were the only ones in the living room.

“I hope you don’t think I was being too prudish earlier,” Nana said, “About insisting on marriage, I mean.”

Parker chewed her lip, “Why—why does it matter if Hardison and I are married before we have a baby?”

Nana cocked her head to the side, “I’m an old-fashioned, Christian woman who was raised in the south. I believe in the proper order of things.”

Parker frowned.

“But I also think that you’ve got to make your own order sometimes,” Nana continued, “And that normal is—”

“—whatever works for you,” Parker finished.

Nana looked over her nose at Parker, a faint smile on her lips, “I see Alec listened to me more than I thought he did.”

Hardison’s indignant shouts came from the kitchen, followed by Julie’s giggles.

Nana sighed and stood up, “I better make sure they don’t wreck the kitchen or kill each other.”

Parker laughed, and followed Nana into the other room.

Dinner passed in a flurry of questions from Beck and Julie. Beck wanted to know what it was like to live in Portland and run a brew pub and make your own beer (Hardison had to stop Parker from rattling off the thief juice motto). Julie’s questions were centered more on how Parker and Hardison met, how long they’d been living together, and the baby. Parker did her best to answer Julie’s pregnancy questions, but some of them threw her for a loop.

“Do you crave weird things, like peanut butter on pickles?”

Parker cocked her head to the side, “What’s wrong with peanut butter on pickles?”

“That’s enough of that, Julie,” Nana intervened, “Why don’t you and Beck go play that game? Alec will do the dishes.”

“Alec will do the what?” Hardison’s head hot up.

Beck and Julie cheered and jumped out of their seats, Julie pausing to kiss Nana’s cheek before following Beck out of the room.

Hardison stood to start the dishes, grumbling, but Nana stopped him, “Oh, leave ‘em for a bit. I want y’all to tell me about this family of yours.”

Hardison hesitated, “You mean Parker and the baby?”

Nana gave him a withering look and smacked his shoulder, “No, you dingbat. Those people you’re running with now. Sophie and Eliot and what’s-his-name. The ones you’re running the brew pub with. I need to know who’s going to be raising my grandbaby.”

Parker sat up straighter, “He hasn’t told you about Nate or Sophie or Eliot?”

“Nate, that’s his name,” Nana shook her head, “No, he only talks about you, or the brew pub. Oh, and asks after Beck and Julie and my health, of course.”

“What’s wrong with a man inquiring about the wellbeing of his foster family?” Hardison asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing. And there’s nothing wrong with an old woman inquiring about the family of her foster son, either,” Nana said, “So, start talking. I want to know all about them."

“Nate and Sophie are married,” Parker said, “And Eliot is never with the same girl for more than a week.”

“She really didn’t need to know that, babe,” Hardison shook his head.

Parker raised her eyebrow at Hardison, “You weren’t telling her anything, and now you’re going to complain when I do?”

Hardison sighed and rolled his eyes, “Okay. Please, do go on.”

“Thank you,” Parker turned back to Nana, “Eliot makes up all the menus for the brew pub and cooks whenever he’s available. Sophie and Nate used to help us,” she caught herself before she gave away their real profession and said instead, “run the brew pub, but after they got married about a year ago, they’ve been off travelling the world and we don’t see them as much. But they’re coming to visit this weekend so we can tell them about the baby.”

“And they’re good people?” Nana asked.

“You think I’d let them anywhere near my kid if they weren’t?” Hardison asked, shaking his head, “Come on, now, Nana.”

Nana sighed and leaned back in her chair, “That’s all I can ask for.” She stood up, “get your butt up, boy, and help me with the dishes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hardison grabbed his plate and Parker’s and followed Nana over to the sink.

Parker stayed seated while they worked together on the dishes, tapping her fingers on the table and thinking about the modifications she’d made to her newest rig up on the roof of the brew pub. Soon she was lost in thought, imagining the feel of the wind on her face and the tight catch of the harness when she reached the bottom of the rope.

Hardison looked over from the sink to see Parker smiling one of her slightly-maniacal- but-somehow-still-attractive smiles. “Whatcha thinking about over there, babe?”

Parker looked up, slightly startled. “Oh, just my newest rig. I was going to try it out when we get back to Portland.”

Hardison frowned at her, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Parker scoffed, “It’s not like I asked you to jump with me. Eliot explained your weird phobia to me a long time ago.”

“No, I mean,” Hardison sat back down next to her, “Are you sure that’s safe for the baby?”

Parker’s eyebrow’s scrunched together, “What?”

“There are things that women shouldn’t do when they’re pregnant,” Hardison explained gently, the way he did whenever they talked about anything involving her pregnancy.

Parker’s hand dropped to her stomach, and she didn’t try and stop herself this time.

“And I’m pretty sure that jumping off of buildings is one of those things,” Hardison continued, taking the hand that wasn’t clutching the front of her shirt.

“What-what do you mean?” Parker demanded, eyes widening. She barely registered that Nana came over from the sink to stand by the table. “What would happen?”

“Uh,” Hardison took a deep breath, “I’m not an expert, mama, so I don’t know for sure, but there’s potential for the baby to get hurt.”

“Hurt?” Parker was getting that panicked look, the one that was usually followed by her jumping out a window and disappearing for hours. “I could hurt the baby?”

 _Quick and light_.

Nana moved forward, sitting back down at the table across from Parker. “You wouldn’t ever do a thing to that baby on purpose, would you?”

“No,” Parker’s voice sounded small, and wobbly, and she didn’t like it. “No, never.”

“Then there are a few things you should avoid doing until the baby gets here,” Nana smiled, putting her hand on top of the one that Hardison was still holding. “That’s all.”

Parker took a deep breath, “And if I stop jumping off of things, and stop doing dangerous stuff, then the baby will be safe?”

Hardison said, “Yes,” but Nana spoke over him.

“As safe as you can make him or her,” she said.

Hardison shook his head, “She really doesn’t need you to talk about all that stuff, Nana.”

Nana ignored him, “Sometimes miscarriages happen. Sometimes there’s nothing a mother can do. You need to know that, in case something does happen, know that it’s not a reflection on you.”

Hardison sighed, and rubbed his face with his free hand. “Nana had three miscarriages. It’s why she started fostering.”

Parker met Nana’s gaze, “Three?”

Nana leaned back, letting go of their hands, “As long as I can remember, I’ve wanted children. Some women just do,” she shrugged a little, “and I was one of them. My ex-husband didn’t really care for the idea of a large family, but he humored me. After I lost them, one by one, he got less and less willing to try again. I don’t blame him, he was hurting too, but finally he decided he wanted to stop. I didn’t. It wasn’t the only thing that facilitated our divorce, but it was one of the main points.”

Parker chewed her lip as she listened to Nana, tightly squeezing Hardison’s hand and the front of her shirt.

“After he left, I realized I wasn’t quite ready to give up on my dream,” Nana went on, “So I started fostering.”

“That could happen to me?” Parker asked, “The baby could die?” Her voice reached a higher pitch and her eyes darted to the windows, to escape, as tears started to form.

_Quick and light._

_Quick and light._

“Hey, mama,” Hardison touched her cheek with the hand that wasn’t stuck in hers, gently bringing her eyes to his. “It’s going to be okay, no matter what happens. The good news is that the chance of miscarriage goes way down after the first trimester. You don’t really have that long left. After that, you’ve just gotta avoid extreme sports and follow all the other rules, and the baby should be fine.”

Parker frowned, but her breathing was back to normal. “How do you know all of this?”

Hardison hesitated.

“All these nights that you stayed up so late, you weren’t playing video games, were you?” Parker asked.

Hardison shook his head, staying silent.

Hardison was scared too. Hardison was so scared that he couldn’t sleep and spend half the night looking up pregnancy statistics and who knows what else. Parker took a deep breath. She was going to be okay. And more importantly, the baby was going to be okay. They had Hardison, and Hardison was going to do whatever he needed to do to keep them safe. Hardison wouldn’t let her do anything stupid that could hurt the baby.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you, child,” Nana said quietly, “I just wanted you to be prepared, just in case.”

Parker nodded, “I understand.”

“Now,” Nana smiled, “Why don’t you tell me about this rig of yours, and what it’s like to jump off a building, while Alec goes and finishes the dishes.”

Parker let herself get distracted by Nana’s questions, not quite okay, but okay enough not to run.

They stayed at Nana’s until way past dark, letting Beck and Julie convince them to join in playing their new game, and letting Nana convince them to have some pie and coffee (and hot chocolate for Parker) before they hit the road. Parker managed to keep her panic down the whole time, shoving it down in the quiet place where all her emotions used to go, but she stopped trying to avoid touching her stomach. She knew she couldn’t feel if the baby was okay through her shirt and skin, but that didn’t stop her from doing it.

It wasn’t until Parker and Hardison were alone in the car, Hardison driving through the night, that Parker turned to him and let a little of the panic out. “I didn’t even know,” she said.

“Hmm?” Hardison turned to face her, streetlights moving across his face. “Know what?”

“I didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to jump off of things,” Parker’s voice did the weird wobbly thing again, “How can I be a mother if I didn’t know?”

“Baby girl, it’s not your fault,” Hardison said, trying to reach over and grab her hand, but she swatted him away, keeping both her hands firmly in her lap. He was driving, so he couldn’t do much but say, “Parker, it’s not your fault that you don’t know these things. Who was going to teach them to you? Archie? I’m sure he would have loved that. You really think he was going to sit you down and tell you about pregnancy and babies?”

Parker chuckled in spite of herself, “I guess not. He did ask me if I knew where babies come from, once, but thankfully that point was covered in the little bit of education I’d had. The basics, at least.”

Hardison tried not to smile at the thought of Archie awkwardly probing a teenage Parker to see what she knew about the birds and the bees. “Like I told you before, babe, we’ll make it through this. All three of us. You’ve got me, and Nana can answer most of your questions, and if she can’t there’s always the doctor, and I’m sure once we tell Sophie this weekend, she’ll be all over you trying to help. Okay?”

 _I got you, girl_.

Parker smiled, “Okay.”


	3. The Telling the 'Parents' Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie and Nate come to visit so Parker and Hardison can tell them the big news.

Parker paced in front of the bar, arms crossed over her chest, blowing out a puff of air every so often to knock away the hair that fell in her face when she tossed her head. “But what if—”

Eliot, leaning easily on the counter behind the bar, interrupted her, “Parker, I’ve just listened to you what-if your way through upwards of twelve different scenarios and one of them involved an asteroid hitting their airplane! Sophie and Nate will be here when they get here.”

Parker hmphed, and stopped pacing to glare at him. “But what if—” she started again.

“Hardison!” Eliot hollered over his shoulder in the direction of the back rooms, where Hardison had disappeared as soon as Parker started getting antsy. “Your girlfriend has a question for you!”

Hardison appeared a few seconds later, his face wary.

Parker immediately latched onto Hardison, as Eliot intended. “Hardison! What if Nate and Sophie are—”

She was cut off by the door of the brew pub tinkling open.

“Thank God,” Eliot muttered, and turned back to wiping down the counter.

It’d been close to three months since Parker, Hardison, and Eliot had seen Nate and Sophie. They always knew where Nate and Sophie were; Sophie always made sure to call when they changed cities so the trio could find them if there was an emergency.

Nate and Sophie moved often, sometimes barely staying in one place a week. Parker, Eliot, and Hardison often wondered if their friends would ever settle in one place, but they were all secretly grateful that their restless nature led to fairly regular phone calls and updates.

The unspoken rule was that the trio always let Sophie and Nate make contact, very rarely initiating a phone call themselves (to date, the only calls Sophie and Nate received were when Eliot took more than a few bullets on a job only a few months after their wedding, and, a few months after that, when Hardison was kidnapped for the umpteenth time). Parker and Hardison had waited until the next “We’re moving!” phone call from Sophie and asked the pair to come to Portland at their earliest convenience.

Nate and Sophie looked exactly the same, maybe slightly tanner, but that was simply a result of their last destination, an island getaway in the Caribbean.

“Sophie! Sophie! Sophie!” Parker was across the room in no time flat, grabbing Sophie’s hand and pulling her towards the bar. “Nate! Come over here!” Parker gestured for him to follow, so Nate ambled over behind the two women.

“It’s good to see you too, Parker,” Sophie said, carefully extracting her hand from Parker’s grip and smiling at Eliot and Hardison.

Nate looked around the room, frowning, “Why are you closed? It’s the middle of the day.”

Eliot jabbed a finger at Parker and Hardison, “Ask them, man. They’re the ones that insisted I close the whole place down for you.”

Nate and Sophie turned towards Hardison, who cleared his throat self-consciously. “At least I asked him to make y’all lunch, so you wouldn’t have to worry about food, since the only other things we have around here are cereal, gummy frogs, and whatever creations Parker keeps in the back of the fridge that I go out of my way to avoid looking at.”

Eliot threw down the towel he was holding and headed for the kitchen, grumbling, “Yeah, it’s always ‘Eliot, cook this,’ and ‘Eliot, cook that,’ and ‘Eliot, what do you mean I can’t put ice cream on a bagel?’ and ‘Eliot, Sophie and Nate are coming so you better cook them something nice, but make sure to close the brew pub so we ain’t got any customers coming in, either.’”

Sophie smiled fondly at Eliot’s imitation of Parker and Hardison. He returned a minute later, brandishing two plates of pungent fish.

Eliot smiled that smile that meant he was about to ramble off the name of the dish and all its ingredients, but before he could, Parker let out a very loud and very frustrated shriek. She took off in the direction of the bathroom.

“You need me, mama?” Hardison called after her, but all he got in return was another shriek, so he shrugged, “Imma take that as a no.”

“Is she alright?” Sophie asked, looking like she might follow Parker into the bathroom herself. Nate also looked concerned.

“Uh, her stomach’s been giving her problems the last few days,” Hardison said, not sure why he didn’t just spill the truth, since that was the whole reason the Fords were here.

Nate nodded, accepting that answer, but Sophie frowned a little. “Huh. I’m going to go check on her,” she said, patting Nate on the shoulder, “You eat up, while it’s warm.”

“Oh, uh, no, you don’t have to do that,” Hardison tried to protest, “She’ll be fine. She gets touchy about her vomit, you know!” but Sophie was already gone.

Eliot just stood back, smirking, and watched the whole thing unfold. Parker and Hardison had inadvertently made this way more difficult than it had to be, and damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy the show.

 

~o0o~

 

“Parker?” Sophie knocked on the outer door to the brew pub women’s room before stepping inside. The bathroom had two stalls and a sink, and Parker was currently hunched over the toilet in the first stall, door wide open behind her, puking her guts out.

“I haven’t even eaten anything today!” she muttered, seemingly to herself, but as Sophie inched her way closer to the thief, she could see Parker’s hand come around to cradle her stomach. “You’re killing me here,” Parker went on, still seemingly unaware that Sophie was behind her, despite the former grifter calling her name and knocking on the door (which, in itself would have been cause for alarm; usually the only one capable of sneaking up on Parker was Eliot, and that was only on his best day or her worst).

“Parker?” Sophie said again, leaning on the doorway to the stall behind Parker. “Is everything alright?”

“What?” Parker looked up sharply, and tried to stand, but another bout of nausea hit and she had to stop and take stock to see if she needed to puke again. After a second, she took a deep breath, stood slowly, and flushed the toilet, closing the lid and sitting down on top of it, not exactly meeting Sophie’s eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, a little too late to be convincing.

Sophie’s eyes narrowed briefly, and then she bit her lip, “Does Hardison know?” she asked gently.

Parker nodded, still not meeting Sophie’s gaze. “That’s why we asked you and Nate to come, so we could tell you. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, though. Blame Eliot and his stupid fish.”

Sophie smiled, “How far along are you?”

“About 9 weeks.”

Sophie nodded, “I think that’s fantastic, Parker.”

Parker finally looked up, “Really?”

“Of course,” Sophie crouched down to grab Parker’s hands, “Why wouldn’t I? A baby, Parker? That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

Parker smiled hesitantly, and stood up, “I think I’m okay now. Baby doesn’t like the fish smell,” she patted her stomach affectionately.

They exited the bathroom, but before they made it out of the little hallway, Sophie stopped and pulled Parker into a bone-crushing hug. “Almost forgot to do that,” she said when she let Parker go. Parker just blinked, shook her head, and followed Sophie back to where the boys were waiting.

Parker made sure to give the fish on the bar top a wide berth, coming to stand at Hardison’s elbow. Sophie sidled up to the bar and sat next to her husband, pulling the untouched plate of fish towards her.

Nate looked from the secretive smile on his wife’s face to Parker desperately trying to communicate something with Hardison using only jabs of her head and weird little facial expressions. “Okay, what happened in the bathroom?” Nate asked, putting down his fork.

“Nothing, dear,” Sophie said, patting Nate’s arm. She wasn’t going to give anything away until Parker and Hardison were ready, and to be honest, she enjoyed watching Nate squirm just a bit.

“If you count a lot of puke to be nothing, then yeah,” Parker smiled a bit grimly, “Nothing.”

Hardison made a sympathetic face at the mention of lots of puke, having been a witness to that himself almost every morning. “Actually, Parker and I have something to tell you,” he looked to Parker, indicating that she could be the one to say it.

“I’m pregnant,” Parker said evenly, nodding to herself like she still hadn’t quite come to terms with it yet, and saying the words out loud was still a little unsettling.

Sophie finally let go of the grin she’d been holding back since the bathroom, clapping her hands together like a small child. “I’m so excited! You must tell me everything the doctor has told you. Oh, and when’s your next appointment? How soon until you can find out the baby’s gender?” She stopped, looking at Nate, who hadn’t moved.

He kept his eyes on the floor, rubbing his hand over his mouth. Finally, he noticed that everyone was looking at him, Sophie glaring, Eliot wary, and Parker and Hardison hopeful but on the brink of disappointment. “That’s, uh, that’s great, guys,” Nate said, clearing his throat, “Yeah, a baby, that’s . . .” he trailed off, seeming to lose interest in the sentence even as he was saying it. Then he stood up abruptly, “I’ve got to go, uh, go take care of something. Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute, I just need to—” he left through the doors to the back room, even though he no longer had any claim to the space, leaving a vacuum of silence behind him.

 

~o0o~

 

Sophie found Nate in what used to be his office space. The desk had been taken over by Hardison’s gadgets and Parker’s tools, but he still managed to find a bottle of his whisky stashed under the desk right where he’d left it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sophie demanded, stopping a few feet away from the desk with a hand on her hip. She’d left Parker and Hardison in the front of the brew pub, mumbling something like, ‘Not to worry, I’ll go sort him out’ as she hurried after her husband, heels clicking angrily on the floor.

Nate didn’t bother to look at her, or find a glass, as he took a swig of the whisky.

“Nathan Ford,” Sophie started to berate him, but realized she wasn’t even sure what to say. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

Nate finally looked up, holding the bottle out towards her, “Want some? We should be celebrating, after all.” Sophie just stared at him, so he shrugged and took another sip, “Fine. A baby, huh? A kid. Parker and Hardison are having a kid. Well, isn’t that great. Yeah, it’s just great. Kids are . . .” he started to trail off, “Kids are great.”

Sophie took a deep breath, “Don’t think I don’t know what this is, Nathan,” she said, but there wasn’t as much bite in her words as there had been. She took a step closer to the desk. “I know we don’t talk about Sam’s death—” Nate glared at her. “—but you’re going to listen to me right now. Of course it’s going to be hard to watch another child grow up when you lost your own. Of course it’s going to stir up all those memories that you try to bury or drown or suffocate. Of _course_ being a part of this child’s life is going to be damn painful. But Parker and Hardison know that. They knew that this was going to be an issue, why do you think they went to all the trouble they did to make sure they told us in the softest way possible? Of course the family you have now—me, Eliot, Parker, and Hardison—will never be able to replace Sam. We know that, Nate. We’ve always known that, and we’d never try to. But that doesn’t mean that we’re not your family. And that doesn’t mean that you don’t have two very nervous parents-to-be out there right now, terrified that they’ve upset you and that you’re going to want nothing to do with them or their child.” Sophie stood up straighter, the passion in her eyes letting Nate know that she was completely serious, “I _am_ going to be a part of that child’s life, Nate. I am. I’m going to watch him or her grow, I’m going to help Parker and Hardison in any way that I can, and, more importantly, I’m going to make sure the child knows that he or she can come to me at any time and for anything. And if you don’t want to do the same, if you don’t want to be a part of that, then you’re going to have to leave me, because there’s no way—” Sophie cut off her tirade, realizing that Nate was now smirking at her, “What?”

Nate held up a little black notebook he’d pulled from the drawer of the desk. “I really did come back here to get something,” he screwed the cap back on the bottle, standing up.

Sophie narrowed her eyes at him, and plucked the notebook from his hand. “What is this?”

“That is my notebook,” Nate said simply, taking it back from her and heading out to the front of the brew pub. Sophie stared after him for a moment, shook her head, and followed.

Parker, Hardison, and Eliot were more or less where they’d left them, but Parker had taken up Nate’s seat at the bar. She stood when they entered, eyeing Nate warily.

Nate smiled widely, and pulled Parker in for a hug. She froze for a second, and then wrapped her arms around him. “I’m proud of you, Parker,” he whispered right as he let her go, giving her no time to react.

Parker looked startled for a second, and then she smiled, “Wow, pregnant women sure get hugged a lot.”

Hardison chuckled, rubbing Parker’s arm, and no one missed the loving look he shot her.

“So,” Nate clapped his hands together, “There are several ways we can do this.”

“Do what?” Eliot asked, leaning forward on the bar.

“The job, of course,” Nate said, looking from each of them like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “We don’t want Parker out on cons anymore, right? Not when it puts the baby at risk.”

Hardison nodded slowly, “Right, that’s why we haven’t taken a job since we found out.”

“Yeah, but the client list is only getting longer,” Eliot put in, “If we wait much longer it’ll be so backlogged that it’ll be impossible to help everyone, and some people will have to just do without.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” Nate asked, rubbing his face with his hand, “No, of course we don’t. So, the logical step would be to keep doing jobs, with Parker masterminding from here, maybe from Lucille, but probably from here,” he gestured to the bar around them, “Well, back there, mostly.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Hardison said, “But we have a hard-enough time running a crew with only three people, we have to pull in extra help all the time, so how are we supposed to do anything with just me and Eliot working the marks?”

“You won’t,” Nate said simply, “No, you won’t be able to do anything just the two of you, unless . . .” he trailed off, looking at Parker.

Parker smiled. She’d figured out the solution while the boys were talking. “Unless, we have more than you two out there. I can mastermind fine from here, but unless we have, say, two more members of the crew—especially one more grifter—we won’t be able to do much.” She looked from Nate to Sophie.

Nate was staring at Sophie too, “What do you say? You know as well as I do that the reason we’ve been so damn restless is because we missed this life. I know for a fact you’ve been dying to grift again. Plus, while we’re here you can hook up with your old theater group?” he left it as a question.

They were all looking at Sophie now. She narrowed her eyes at Nate, “Tell me you weren’t planning this the whole time.”

“Not the whole time,” Nate said, holding up the notebook, “But I came up with more than a few contingencies before we left, just in case something like a pregnancy or injury happened. I also figured there was a good chance you’d get bored. You need this life as much as any of us, Sophie.”

“And you?” Sophie asked, “Do you need it?”

Nate took a deep breath, “Not the masterminding part. I want that well and truly behind me. But the thrill, the chase, the cons, catching the bad guys, helping people, I need that. I always have.”

“And do you really think you can give up the reins to Parker?” Sophie took a step closer to Nate, “Do you really think you can resist the temptation of taking over the cons yourself?”

Nate chuckled, “I suspect I won’t have any choice, between you and Parker. She looks like she’s gotten used to being in control.”

Hardison and Eliot both nodded in unison behind Parker’s head.

“In that case,” Sophie took a deep breath, “I think that’s a wonderful idea!”

“All right,” Eliot smiled, reaching under the bar for a few glasses and filling them up at the taps, “Where I come from, this calls for a toast.”

Hardison helped Eliot distribute the glasses, handing Parker a root beer. She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t complain.

“To the team, back together again,” Eliot said, raising his glass.

“To family,” Parker said, looking over at Hardison.

“I’ll second that,” Hardison said.

Nate nodded, “To Leverage.”

Sophie looked at each of her teammates—her family members. She _had_ missed them, so much more than she’d realized. And it had been fun, traveling the world with Nate, just the two of them getting to explore their love, but this was where she belonged (and it was where Nate belonged too, with people who cared about him). She bit her lip, and then raised her glass higher than any of the other’s.

“To the baby!”


	4. The First Trimester Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three moments from Parker's first trimester, told from Hardison's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: the quotes at the beginning of the sections are from  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-10-weeks_1099.bc  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-12-weeks_1101.bc  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-13-weeks_1102.bc

****

10 weeks

“Though he’s … a little over an inch or so long, crown to bottom, and weighs less than a quarter of an ounce, your baby has now completed the most critical portion of his development. This is the beginning of the so-called fetal period, a time when the tissues and organs in his body rapidly grow and mature.” -babycenter.com

Hardison held open the door of the brew pub for Parker. His brain still felt a little mushy, like when he doesn’t sleep for 3 days trying to finish a video game, but in a good way, not in an I’m-too-much-of-a-zombie-to-tie-my-own-shoe way.

He’d never thought that such a little thing could be so important, could change his view of _everything_ , could make the world around him seem so much more real.

He’d never thought about what a heartbeat really means.

You never think about your own, unless you’re being pushed off a building, or your girlfriend has a bomb of flu and she’s running away from you, or she’s telling you she has feelings for pretzels, or she’s kissing you for the first time, or the second, or every single time after that.

You don’t notice anyone else’s heartbeat either, unless they’re bleeding out, or unconscious, or any of the other terrible things that happen to people when jobs go wrong, or you’re holding her close because she did something dangerous (again!), and you just need one other little assurance that she’s still breathing.

You don’t notice heartbeats, you simply trust your body to do what it does, and that’s that. But when a nurse puts that Doppler on your girl’s stomach, and you hear your baby’s heat beating—fast, so fast, and so _real_.

His kid was alive.

Hardison had never heard anything as amazing as a heartbeat.

Parker was silent as she preceded him into the brew pub. She hadn’t said much since the appointment. Hardison figured she was in the same state of awe that he was.

“Hey, how did it go?” Sophie asked eagerly, waving them over to the bar where she and Nate were quite obviously waiting for them. Eliot was in and out of the kitchen, like always when he was in the brew pub but not cooking, supervising the chef maybe a bit too much, unable to stay up front like he should. He stopped when he saw Parker and Hardison, though, and leaned on the bar beside Sophie.

“Oh, man, I swear it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard,” Hardison said, breaking into grin.

“The heartbeat?” Nate asked, smiling a little and nodding.

“Yeah,” Hardison looked over at Parker, still silent beside him, and reached his arm around her waist to pull her closer. She came willingly, and leaned into him, but still didn’t speak.

Which was fine, because Hardison was doing a good job of speaking enough for the both of them, “I’ve learned all kinds of cool stuff, like, did you know that our baby is currently about the size of a kumquat? A kumquat! Those little mini oranges you just eat whole?”

“We know what a kumquat is, Hardison,” Eliot broke in, pretending to be annoyed, but everyone could tell that he didn’t even try to hide his affection anymore.

Hardison ignored him, “Oh, and, the baby already has little teeny tiny fingernails forming on little teeny tiny fingers!”

Hardison’s enthusiasm, as always, was infectious, but Sophie would have been smiling anyway. “I assume the appointment went well, then?”

“Oh, of course, the doc says that everything’s perfectly fine. Right, babe?” Hardison turned to Parker, who was staring pointedly at a spot on the wall behind Sophie, Nate, and Eliot. “Parker?”

Parker blinked, and Hardison saw a few tears rolling down her cheek.

“Parker?” Hardison gently touched her back, and that seemed to break her free from some kind of spell.

Hardison was aware of Eliot, Nate, and Sophie watching them carefully, but they knew better than to speak up.

Parker, in a practiced move, swiped at her face, tears gone in an instant, as if they’d never been there.

“You okay, mama?” Hardison asked, trying to bring a hand up to touch her face, but she swatted him away.

“I’m _fine_!” Parker took a step backwards. “Why wouldn’t I be fine, huh?”

Hardison opened his mouth, “I don’t—”

“Exactly!” Parker interrupted, “So just—just leave me alone!”

She shoved past them, running for the back rooms, leaving the doors swinging wildly behind her.

 

~o0o~

 

Hardison must be some kind of idiot. Really, for all the talk of his genius, he must be incredibly stupid. He had to be, to miss that something was up with Parker. Even if it was just pregnancy hormones, as Nate and Eliot seemed to imply right before Hardison took off after her.

Of course something had been up with her. She hadn’t said a single word the entire car ride home, and had Hardison noticed? No, because he’d been too busy babbling the whole way, just like he had with Nate, Sophie, and Eliot.

God, he was so stupid.

He knew—he _knew_ —how hard this was for Parker, how hard she was trying to be normal, now more than ever. It broke his heart to see that, to see the woman who had been so fearlessly comfortable in her own skin trying her hardest to be like every other mother in the waiting room. She was convinced that she would do something wrong if she didn’t follow the ‘rules’ and who was he to stop her from doing what she thought was best for the baby? So, he didn’t bring it up, he just tried to be there for her whenever she needed him. For doctor’s appointments at least, they did need be closer to normal than ever before, which is why he made the best set of fake IDs he’d ever created, IDs to last until after the baby was born, so they could have consistent medical care throughout the pregnancy.

And maybe he _should_ tune down the excitement just a bit. Parker, she was happy about the baby, he could tell that much, but she certainly wasn’t _excited_ about the prospect of being a mother. And sometimes Hardison couldn’t tell if she was happy because she was happy, or just happy because she knew that he was.

Hardison had spent a considerable amount of his time trying to figure out Parker’s weird relationship with emotions, trying to figure out if she had them, what they were, and how to recognize them. His absolute first instinct when they’d met was that she had to be faking the whole sociopath thing. It was obviously just an act she put on to keep people from getting close to her, right?

But that had been wishful thinking on his part, and the fantasy that he could be the shining knight to uncover the hidden Parker underneath and convince her to drop her act was quickly dashed by the realization that Parker did not care enough about any of them to put effort into hiding her real self. What you saw was what you got.

Her enthusiasm appeared to be reserved for objects (especially shiny ones), money, and the knowledge that she could do things—steal things—that no one else could. The other people around her, they were just there to be used to further her heists, to be stolen from, or to provide a good chase. And somehow, the fact that she was so unafraid of being different, the fact that she didn’t care what they thought, it made her all the more appealing to Hardison, who’d spent most of his life running from people’s opinions.

So, people didn’t appear make it onto her list of things she should care about. However, that didn’t mean that she didn’t _understand_ emotions, at least as far as they motivated the people around her. She proved that when she’d had to explain to him why Nate hadn’t left the bank in Juan, that terrible tiny desert town, before the would-be bank robbers pulled out their guns. She’d picked up on Nate and Sophie’s thing faster than he had. (In his defense, there was a lot going on in those first few months, and Nate had been married when he’d known Sophie before, so why should Hardison assume that anything was between the two of them other than workplace flirting?)

If Parker understood emotions, recognized them, then maybe there was a chance she could feel them too, and it was the processing and expressing that had been screwed up.

He’d determined then that he wasn’t going to give up.

And then there was Serbia.

Serbia, and a bunch of orphans, and Parker both making an incredible stride forward, and also reverting to her old ways. Yes, she ran off without them and made her own plan, lied to them, and did her own thing, but her actions weren’t based in that cold, logical place that seemed to regulate most of her life.

What could make the world’s greatest thief, who repeatedly ridiculed anyone that attempted a job without a plan, who said that if you go in without a way out, you deserve what you get, what could make that woman run headfirst into a warehouse full of guns and men more than willing to shoot them and attempt to herd a group of _children_ without being caught, with no real way out?

Emotion, _feelings_ , the same emotion she’d shown to him when he told her about Nana for the first time.

_What if they turn out like me?_

How was a woman so capable of breaking his heart with just one sentence, so capable of putting him on the verge of promising to hurt every single person she’d ever known, and yet so unaware that she was doing it?

And when she did something so stupid, something that almost got them all killed, how did that make him love her more?

Parker felt things. And maybe she hadn’t before they’d met, and the team had nudged it out of her, and maybe she’d just locked them down so deep that she couldn’t find them until she had a reason to, but it didn’t matter, because she was becoming the person she was meant to be, and all Hardison had to do was stand back and watch it unfold before his eyes.

Parker, his Parker, was completely different from the woman he’d met so many years ago. She felt things, and when she did she tried her best to articulate them, in way that he, at least, could understand (“pretzels”), and she was baffling sometimes (seriously, _why_ did she need to jump off of every tall thing in sight?) and sometimes she didn’t understand him at all (the entire fight surrounding Parker 2000) but at least he knew that all of those things were coming from an emotional place, and that was really all he could ask for.

And then he went and got her pregnant.

“Parker?” Hardison knocked softly, even though the bedroom door was wide open. Parker was inside sitting on the bed. “Is everything okay, mama?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

Parker nodded and sniffled, which was not a sound Hardison had ever heard her make. “Baby was happy,” she said, “Baby was happy and it made me cry.”

“What?” Hardison entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.

Parker looked up, “The doctor said that mood changes are normal.”

Hardison nodded.

“Well, the mood changes are just Baby having feelings,” Parker explained, sitting up straighter and wiping her face, “Except Baby is all bundled up in my tummy, and doesn’t have a way to express the feelings, so Baby makes me feel them instead.”

Hardison hesitated, for a brief second considering correcting her, but then Parker said something that blew that thought out of his head.

“I’m happy because Baby has a big heart and a lot of feelings, just like you, and that’s good because,” Parker took a deep breath, “Baby loves our family. Baby is really happy whenever I’m around Nate and Sophie and Eliot. And you. Baby loves you the most.”

Hardison felt tears pricking his eyes as he pulled Parker in for a hug, and he didn’t have Baby in his tummy to blame them on.

 

* * *

 

12 weeks

“The most dramatic development this week: reflexes. Your baby's fingers will soon begin to open and close, his toes will curl, his eye muscles will clench, and his mouth will make sucking movements. In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response, although you won't be able to feel it.” -babycenter.com

Hardison glanced in the open bedroom door as he passed, more out of habit than anything else, and stopped in his tracks. There was Parker, perfectly framed in the doorway, standing in the middle of their bedroom, wearing one of his t-shirts that was way too big for her. She had the shirt pulled up, tucked under her chin to keep it out of the way while she worked at the buttons on her pants. Try as she might, she could not seem to get them buttoned, and the interesting wriggling movements she was doing trying to get them to was enough to make Hardison stare, mouth wide open.

After a few minutes, Parker let the shirt drop from under her chin, covering up her barely protruding stomach. Her waist wasn’t noticeably bigger yet, unless you were Hardison and had made her body an object of extensive study, but she had grown enough that most of her pants no longer fit correctly, causing the thief much frustration.

“I know you’re standing there, Hardison,” Parker said, without looking up from her uncooperative stomach.

“Those pants aren’t going to fit any easier today than they did yesterday, babe,” Hardison said, coming fully into the room.

Parker huffed, and began to pick previously discarded pants up off the floor.

“I thought you went shopping with Sophie to get some bigger clothes,” Hardison raised his eyebrows and gestured at the shopping bags that were still piled in the corners of the room.

“We did,” Parker stopped and finally looked at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “We got clothes for when I’m all shapes and sizes. We got clothes that are ‘pretty’ and ‘cute’ and bras that are ‘adorable’ and ‘sexy,’” she rolled her eyes, “I’m wearing one of the bras, because my other ones hurt, but I don’t feel pretty or cute or adorable or sexy. I feel gross, like I’m gonna puke any second, and hungry, because I can’t eat, and—” she gestured to her midsection, “squishy! But weird squishy, _not_ good squishy.”

“Okay,” Hardison nodded, thought for a second, and then said, “So you’d rather wear pants that you can’t button than the stuff you bought with Sophie?”

Parker shrugged.

“Then why did you let Sophie buy them?” Hardison asked, well aware that, even if Parker paid for the clothes, it was really Sophie that picked them out and convinced Parker that they were necessary.

Parker shrugged again, “They _are_ pretty. And Sophie was excited. And I didn’t feel gross when I bought them.”

Hardison considered and decided that that made a lot of sense, “Okay, babe, I’ll tell you what, why don’t we run to the store and you can pick out some comfy stuff for when you feel gross? And you can wear what you got with Sophie when you don’t?”

Parker hesitated, “You won’t tell Sophie?”

Hardison smiled, “Of course not, mama. C’mon,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “We can go right now. My shirt is long enough that no one will notice that your pants are unbuttoned. And I’m sure you’re not the first expectant mother to be in this situation.”

Parker smiled gratefully, nodded, and leaned into his embrace.

Hardison leaned down and whispered in her ear, “For the record, just because you don’t feel pretty or sexy doesn’t mean that you aren’t. I think you’re beautiful.”

 

* * *

 

13 weeks

“Fingerprints are forming on your baby’s tiny fingertips, her veins and organs are clearly visible through her still-thin skin, and her body is starting to catch up with her head – which makes up just a third of her body size now. If you're having a girl, she now has more than 2 million eggs in her ovaries. Your baby is almost 3 inches long (about the size of a pea pod) and weighs nearly an ounce.” -babycenter.com

Hardison was sitting at his computer on the lighted countertop in the back rooms of the brew pub, working on Nate and Sophie's identities for their next con, scheduled to start in two days.

Parker, appearing out of nowhere as was her custom, kissed his cheek and then held up her cell phone. She stood there looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to know what the cell phone meant.

"You need me to fix something, babe?" Hardison asked, shutting down his program and giving her his full attention. He'd long since learned that Parker was not something you could multitask, especially when she had something going on that was supposed to be obvious to him, but wasn't.

"No," Parker rolled her eyes. "Do you want to call anyone?"

Hardison still didn't understand, "Call someone? Just to chat, or . . ."

Parker huffed, rolling her eyes again, "I'm thirteen weeks, Hardison."

"I'm well aware, and what a lovely thirteen weeks it's been," he laced his fingers together, elbows resting on the countertop, "Even if we didn't know about it the whole time."

Parker ignored that, "Thirteen weeks is when you tell extended family and friends, because the risk of miscarriage drops down so much after the first trimester."

Apparently, she _had_ been reading some of the articles he'd picked out for her. "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Parker smiled, "So, do you need to tell anyone?"

"We already told Nana, so I'm not sure I have anybody else," Hardison said after a minute, "I'm sure Beck and Julie spilled it to the rest of my foster siblings the second we pulled out of the driveway."

"Okay," Parker began dialing a number.

Hardison frowned, "Who are you calling?"

"Archie."

Hardison was slightly ashamed to admit that he'd forgotten about Archie. He waited, watching Parker. He didn’t know how he felt about the change that comes over her whenever she’s around Archie. Much more disciplined, more closed off, and a lot more like the person he’d first met, though she did show genuine affection for Archie, despite it all.

Parker accepted that Archie ‘couldn’t have taken her in with the real family.’ She understood, but she’d been taught to understand, by Archie, that she was different, and that she didn’t need the ‘real’ family because she was being molded into the greatest thief of her generation.

Hardison didn’t buy one bit of that. He’d heard what Archie said when Parker had tried to take on the Steranko alone. How they’d ‘broken’ her. Broken her by showing her what a real family is, what it’s like to have people who support you, and come after you when you do something like try and take on a Steranko all by your lonesome.

But seeing the way Parker acted around Archie, and what little she’d told them afterwards, he’d realized that Archie _was_ the closest thing she had to a father. He was someone she’d cared about after she’d closed herself off to caring about anybody, and if she cared about him, then of course Hardison was going to do his best to forgive.

Just no way in hell was he forgetting.

“Hello,” Parker said into the phone, presumably after Archie answered. “I’m pregnant.”

Well, that was one way to break it to him.

“No, sir,” Parker shook her head. Hardison wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what was happening on the other end of the phone, what Archie’s reaction was. “No, sir,” Parker repeated, “No, sir.”

Three no-sirs in a row. That was either really good or really bad.

Hardison decided that it was the latter when Parker wordlessly held the phone out to him. He hesitated, and then took it from her, “Hello?”

“So, you’re the father of my grandchild,” Archie’s voice was a smooth as Hardison remembered.

Hardison wasn’t sure how he felt about Archie calling their kid his grandchild, but Parker kind-of-sort-of thought of Archie as her father, so he didn’t really think he had a choice in the matter. “Yes, sir.”

“I bet you’ll want that kid to be behind a screen its whole life, like you, instead of training it to be a thief, like Parker. It could be the best in the world, and I bet you’ll want to ruin it.”

Hardison sat up straighter, “No, sir. My kid is going to be whatever he or she wants to be, whether that’s a thief, a hacker, or the President of the United States of America. And no one, not me, and certainly not you, is going to stand in the way of that.”

Archie was silent for a moment, and then, “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

 Hardison speak, not sure what else there was to say.

“Give me back to Parker.” Apparently Archie didn’t have anything else to say to him either.

He handed the phone back to Parker, who spent a few more minutes telling him how far along she was, and what they knew so far, and promising to keep him updated.

Eventually, Parker hung up. She looked at him for a minute, and then said, “He thinks you’re going to be a great father.”

Hardison froze, and all he could do was blink at her as she spun on her heel and disappeared.

Well, _damn_.


	5. The Second Trimester Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second trimester is here! More little moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thanks again to everyone who's reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. Y'all are great!  
> Quotes from:  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-24-weeks_1113.bc  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-20-weeks_1109.bc  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_18-weeks-pregnant_1107.bc

18 weeks

“Head to rump, your baby is about 5 1/2 inches long, and he weighs almost 7 ounces (about the size of a bell pepper). He's busy flexing his arms and legs – movements that you'll start noticing more and more in the weeks ahead. His blood vessels are visible through his thin skin, and his ears are now in their final position, although they're still standing out from his head a bit. A protective covering of myelin is beginning to form around his nerves, a process that will continue for a year after he's born. If you're having a girl, her uterus and fallopian tubes are formed and in place. If you're having a boy, his genitals are noticeable now, but he may hide them from you during an ultrasound.” -babycenter.com

Parker was lying in bed, tilted slightly to the side, since the doctor said that she shouldn’t lie flat on her back from now on. Just another thing that made her cranky. Hardison did his best to make sure she was comfortable, but she was in the second trimester now, and even though things like morning sickness and random bouts of fatigue have subsided, there were plenty of other little quirks lining up to take their place. Not that Hardison minded too much, of course, it just made life interesting.

Parker raised her eyebrows at him, “How much longer?”

“I’m coming, babe,” Hardison slid into bed next to her and kissed her cheek before settling down under the covers. “You know,” he said as he reached over to turn off the light, “At your ultrasound tomorrow we can find out the sex of the baby.”

Parker sat up, cutting a sharp silhouette outlined in the glow from a streetlight that slid through the blinds and across her body. She was frowning. “No.”

Hardison sat up more slowly, “No?”

Parker continued to frown, not looking at Hardison, “I don’t want to find out Baby’s sex.”

“Well, uh, why not?” Hardison asked carefully. He’d had no idea that she felt that way. Sure, she’d never mentioned wanting to find out, but she’d yet to mention anything about names yet either and he didn’t think that meant she wanted to name the kid ‘Baby.’ He’d figured she hadn’t brought it up because she hadn’t thought she needed to. But now that he really thought back he realized that she’d been avoiding the topic whenever it came up. Honestly, he’d been looking forward to finding out, but he tried not to let that show. “It’ll make all the planning easier,” he said when she didn’t speak, “And all my research, if I have a direction to go in. Once we know, we can get started on the nursery, and buying clothes, all that.”

“We can do that anyway.” Parker huffed, “Babies are babies, Hardison. They don’t know or care if there’s a firetruck painted on their wall instead of a ballet dancer.”

“That’s true,” Hardison hedged, “But parenting strategies are—”

“I read those articles you gave me,” Parker interrupted.

“Okay,” Hardison said, not sure where she was going.

“And in those articles,” Parker continued, “all the mamas say that if you wait to be surprised, you aren’t disappointed. If you find out early, then you are, and you’ll be sad all the way until the baby is born, and I don’t want to be sad.”

“Parker,” Hardison took Parker’s hand, “They say that because a lot of people have strong opinions one way or another about what gender they want their baby to be, and if they find out early and it’s not the one they wanted, then they’re upset about it. If they wait, then the disappointment is overpowered by love and happiness for the little baby in front of them. But that’s only if you’d be disappointed one way or another,” he paused, “Would you be disappointed if Baby is one and not the other?”

Parker chewed her lip and shrugged, “Like I said, there isn’t really a difference between a firetruck and a ballerina.”

“Okay,” Hardison rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “But you still don’t want to find out?”

              Parker sighed, looking down at the bed, “Once I find out, Baby won’t be Baby anymore, Baby will be a pronoun and maybe even name, and if Baby has a pronoun and a real name, then Baby is a person, and if Baby is a person, then suddenly—” she stopped.

“Suddenly, everything matters more,” Hardison finished quietly, fixing her with his level gaze, and nodding. “Okay. We’ll wait, then.”

Parker smiled a little, squeezed his hand, and lay back down. Hardison followed suit, pulling the covers up over them both.

After a few minutes, after Hardison thought Parker had fallen asleep, her voice came out of the darkness. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

Hardison was quiet for a long time, long enough that a normal person would think he’d drifted off or was ignoring her or hadn’t heard the question. But Parker understood, so she just waited, lying on her side facing him, watching his face as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Once I made it to Nana’s, I helped raise both girls and boys, especially Beck and Julie,” he said eventually, “I got to really watch them grow up. So, I like to think that I’ve had experience with both. And, I don’t know, babe, one minute I can see myself with a son, teaching him how to play sports, probably with Eliot’s help, or playing D&D with him, or building all my gadgets. Other times, I see myself with a little girl, and tea parties or shopping or getting to walk her down the aisle one day. But, you’re right, you know, babies _don’t_ know the difference between a firetruck and a ballerina, and our kid could like any or all of those things regardless.” Hardison stopped, and they were both quiet again.

Parker scooted closer to him under the covers, grabbing his hand and pulling it close to her, holding his arm there so the back of his hand rested against the small bulge of her stomach.

 Finally, Hardison spoke up again, “You know what it’s called when you wait to be surprised?” He felt Parker shake her head next to him. “It’s called being Team Green.”

He could imagine Parker’s smile in the dark. “I like green,” she said.

“You know,” Hardison laced his fingers through hers, rubbing his knuckles against her stomach, “So do I.”

 

* * *

 

 

20 weeks

“Your baby weighs about 10 1/2 ounces now. He's also around 6 1/2 inches long from head to bottom and about 10 inches from head to heel – about the length of a small banana… Congratulations! You've hit the halfway mark in your pregnancy. The top of your uterus is about level with your belly button, and you may have gained around 10 pounds. Expect to gain another pound or so each week from now on.” -babycenter

Hardison lay awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Parker’s quiet breathing next to him. She was lying on her side, facing away from him tonight, and if he looked over he knew he’d see the soft curve of her side outlined under the covers, blonde hair spilling over her pillow in the moonlight. She was so beautiful, always.

Like always, Parker had no insecurities about her body changing, no self-consciousness whatsoever, and her only remarks about it were spurred by a loss of practicality more than anything else. Just today, he’d walked into the back rooms after being gone on a job to find her sitting on top of their lighted work table (as she had many times before), leaning back and propping herself up on her hands, frowning down at her belly. She wasn’t huge, but it was definitely no secret that she was pregnant. She was staring at her stomach with such a fixed concentration that Hardison hesitated before stepping up to the table.

“Everything okay, mama?” he’d asked, resting his hands lightly on the desk.

“Yeah,” Parker mumbled, not looking up from her stomach. There was a bowl of cereal next to her. She picked up the spoon and began to munch, still holding herself upright with one hand and using the other to get the spoon of milky cereal all the way from the bowl beside her leg up to her mouth. Not surprisingly (for her, at least), she didn’t spill a drop.

Hardison’s eyes narrowed, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she repeated, but followed it up with a sigh, and let her spoon clink in the bowl. “It’s just . . .”

“Yes?” Hardison prompted.

“I can’t fit in any of my rigs anymore, or through any of the vents,” Parker blurted, finally looking up at him and blowing a piece of hair out of her face.

“Why are you trying to fit in rigs or crawl through vents?” Hardison asked, probably sharper than he needed to, but he was concerned that Parker felt like she needed to do things that were commonly associated with escape.

Parker shrugged, “I’m not, I just . . . I don’t like that I can’t if I needed to.”

“Oh,” Hardison nodded, looked down at his hands resting on the table, and then back up at Parker. “Okay.”

Parker smiled, bringing a hand around to cradle her stomach, “Don’t worry, Hardison. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’d been struck by her beauty then, too.

Hardison was knocked from his memories by a small noise coming from the woman in bed next to him. Was that—?

Yes.

That was definitely a snore.

She was snoring now?

Hardison chuckled a little bit, and settled down deeper under the covers. That was actually kind of cute.

It was not so cute an hour later. Her snores only got louder and more frequent. Hardison lay awake on his side facing the edge of the bed, watching the little red alarm clock numbers tick by. It had been at _least_ an hour since Parker started snoring, and Hardison hadn’t slept through any of it.

He was finally, _finally_ , drifting off when Parker jolted him wide awake. She shot straight up, a hand reflexively snapping over to grab his arm.

Hardison sat up too, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to get his eyes to open all the way. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

A second later and any trace of fatigue was gone as a wave of panic washed over him. What if something was wrong with the baby? What were the symptoms of a miscarriage? Pain, uh, bleeding, what else? Why wasn’t she answering him?

“Parker?” Hardison’s voice came out strangled.

Parker cocked her head to the side, and Hardison registered that she was moving her foot around under the covers. “Hmm? Oh, it’s leg cramps.”

“Leg cramps?” Hardison repeated.

Parker nodded, still concentrating on her movements. “All better.” She fell back against the pillows without another word.

Hardison rubbed his face again, letting his breath out slowly. He looked over at Parker for a minute longer. Her breathing had slowed again, but she wasn’t snoring, so he wasn’t sure if she was actually asleep. He sank down again, lying and staring up into the dark.

Hardison didn’t know how much time passed, having given up on the clock, but it couldn’t have been too long before Parker rolled over until she was facing him. He kept his eyes closed in the hope that she was settled and would fall back asleep soon.

No such luck.

Parker rolled over again, shaking the bed and letting out a little puff of a sigh.

Hardison counted five rolls (seriously, even with the extra pounds, she should _not_ weigh enough to make the bed move _that_ much) and then another little sigh the edged on a whimper.

Hardison had to admit that he was pretty irritated at this point. It was after 2am, and they’d just finished up a job, and he was already exhausted, he’d even gone to bed relatively early, and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep all night. He’d been lying here awake for hours. Was a couple hours of sleep to goddamn much to ask for?

Parker sighed again, and started to shift positions.

Hardison reached under his head, and wordlessly held out one of his pillows to Parker.

She half sat up, frowning curiously at the pillow.

“Put it between your legs,” he said, somewhat shortly, but it _was_ 2 in the morning.

“Oh,” Parker nodded, and took the pillow from him.

Hardison waited expectantly, but after she got the pillow all situated in just the right position, she stopped moving, choosing to face him.

He must have actually fallen asleep this time, because he was definitely pulled from something resembling slumber when Parker sat up for what had to be the twelfth time. He expected her to turn over onto her other side like she had before, but instead she bounced around for a while, and he felt a few pieces of fabric hit his back. What the hell was she doing now?

Hardison rolled over.

Parker had taken off the oversized t-shirt she’d been wearing and was now trying to wiggle out of her sweatpants.

Hardison blinked at her, eyes feeling a bit like sandpaper. “Everything okay, babe?”

Parker made an affirming noise, “I’m just hot,” she said quietly, finally succeeding in getting her sweatpants off.

Hardison didn’t have the energy to say anything, so he just watched her as she lay back down, watched the moonlight on her pale skin, watched as she tucked one arm under her pillow and closed her eyes, watched the little breath stir the hair that fell across her face, and smiled. In spite of the time, in spite of his exhaustion, he smiled at her and moved a little closer.

So what if he couldn’t sleep? So what if he’d have a stiff neck tomorrow because he’d given Parker one of his special support pillows? Who was he to complain? Parker had a _baby_ inside her—his baby, or had he forgotten? She was carrying his baby, and if that made her snore, made her legs cramp, made her hot, and made her unable to find a comfortable position in bed, well, then tough. It’s not like he had to go through any of it! Who the hell was he to lay here and stew over his precious forty winks?

Hardison sighed, finally content, and closed his eyes.

“Hardison?”

His eyes snapped open. Parker was looking at him, her face as close to his as it could be without sharing his pillow. She was chewing her lip, and her eyes were worried.

“Yeah, mama?”

“I’m keeping you up, aren’t I?”

Hardison hesitated, and then said, “It’s not a problem, baby girl.”

“I’m sorry,” Parker pulled her top lip between her teeth, “You shouldn’t be stuck here, lying awake just because I can’t get comfortable.”

Hardison chuckled, “What are you talking about, mama? I’m in bed with a beautiful, scantily clad woman who happens to be the mother of my child. Sounds like a dream come true to me. Who would want to sleep through that?”

Parker smiled softly at him. Then she sniffed. “Baby thinks you’re really great,” she said, and rubbed her face.

Hardison grinned, “Oh, Baby does, huh?”

Parker nodded, “Yeah. Baby is really happy that Baby ended up with you.”

Hardison reached out and brushed his hand along Parker’s cheek. “I’m really happy Baby ended up with me, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

24 weeks

“Your baby is growing steadily, having gained about 4 ounces since last week. That puts him at about 1 1/3 pounds. Since he's almost a foot long (about the length of an ear of corn), he cuts a pretty lean figure at this point, but his body is filling out proportionally and he'll soon start to plump up. His brain is also growing quickly now, and his taste buds are continuing to develop. His lungs are developing "branches" of the respiratory "tree" as well as cells that produce surfactant, a substance that will help his air sacs inflate once he hits the outside world. His skin is still thin and translucent, but that will start to change soon.” -babycenter.com

Hardison stood up on a stepladder, smoothing the last piece of painter’s tape in the nursery. After much deliberation, they’d decided that their apartment above the back rooms of the brew pub would still work fine even with the addition of the baby. It would be on the smallish side, but they spent just as much time downstairs as they did up here, and if it got to be too cramped a few years down the road, they could always move into one of their other properties.

“Hey,” Parker came in the room carrying a gallon of paint in each hand.

“Parker!” Hardison admonished, jumping off the ladder and hurrying over to take the paint from her. “You shouldn’t be carrying that much weight! I told you to leave it downstairs for Eliot to get when he comes.”

Parker rolled her eyes, “I’m fine, Hardison. See?” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close despite her belly and pressing a kiss onto his lips.

Hardison made a disbelieving noise, but he didn’t say anything else. “You know you gotta get out of here when we start painting?” he said, carrying the paint over and setting it down next to the stepladder.

“Yes, sir!” Parker said, standing up straight and saluting.

Hardison shook his head, “I’m not kidding,” he said, but he smiled at the twinkle in her eyes. “You’re in a good mood, babe.”

Parker shrugged, leaning against the wall by the door, “Baby is happy, that’s all.”

Hardison nodded, accepting that answer. He couldn’t be sure how much Parker believed that Baby felt things, but she seemed to enjoy proclaiming what Baby did and did not like, so he didn’t say anything about it. And sometimes, when he’d sit down next to Parker on the couch and she’d grab his hand and put it on her stomach and Baby would start kicking up a storm but then wouldn’t move a muscle later for Amy or McSweeten, sometimes it wasn’t too hard to believe that Baby had preferences. (Hardison just hoped that Baby wasn’t as particular as Parker, because he wasn’t sure he could deal with two of them).

Hardison pulled out his phone to check the time, “Eliot should be here soon. Where are you going while we paint?”

Parker sighed, “Since I’m banished from here, Sophie wants me to come look at some stuff she bought. She wants to turn one of the spare bedrooms in their house into a room for Baby so they can babysit and Baby can have a place to stay there, but,” Parker shrugged, wrapping her arms around her belly, “I’m not sure she needs to go to the trouble. Baby wouldn’t be staying there overnight for a really long time.”

“I think she’s just excited,” Hardison said diplomatically, “And you never know, it would be nice for Baby to have a place to nap if we’re ever over there during the day.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Parker shrugged.

Hardison came over and gently rested his hands on Parker’s hips, “Sophie mothers everybody, you know? And I think it’s because she wanted to be a mother. So, she’s excited that she gets to be the next best thing—”

“Aunt Sophie,” Parker put in.

“Exactly,” Hardison smiled, “She gets to be Aunt Sophie. And you don’t really _enjoy_ all the shopping and decorating the way that Sophie does, so she goes a little overboard.”

Parker smiled, “You’re right. And if she babysits, I can go steal stuff. I miss stealing stuff.”

“I know you do, mama,” Hardison rubbed her arms and gave her a kiss. “All right, skedaddle. I’m not taking any chances, so you need to be well and truly gone before I crack open the can of paint.”

Parker rolled her eyes, but was smiling as she left the room.

Eliot came in a few minutes later, carrying a box. “Hey, man,” he said, putting the box on the floor and crouching down in front of it.

“What’s that?” Hardison asked as Eliot opened the box and started shuffling the things inside.

“My paintbrushes,” Eliot said, pulling paintbrushes and folded up paint rollers out of the box and lining them up on the floor.

“Your paintbrushes?” Hardison repeated, “Man, I bought paintbrushes. I have paintbrushes.”

“Yeah, and these are _my_ paintbrushes,” Eliot said, and then he pulled a paint tray out of the box.

“Oh, my bad, they’re _your_ paintbrushes. I guess mine just won’t do for the great Eliot Spenser,” Hardison mocked, waving his arms in front of him like he was impressed, “What else you got in your magic paint supply box, huh? What, you got a drop cloth in there, too? Rubber gloves? A paint can opener?”

“Actually,” Eliot smiled smugly, “Yes, I do have a paint can opener.”

“Oh, you know, that’s good, cuz I actually forgot to get one.”

Eliot pulled it out of his box, flipped it once, and handed it to Hardison.

“Thanks, man,” Hardison said, “Really, though, thanks for helping me out with this.”

“No problem,” Eliot started to say something else, looking over at where Hardison was about to open up one of the cans, “Hey, wait a minute, we can’t pour the paint yet!”

“What?” Hardison raised his eyebrows, “Why not?”

“We gotta wet the paintbrushes first, man,” Eliot said, gathering up his paintbrushes in his paint tray and standing up.

“Wet the paintbrushes first?” Hardison repeated, giving him a skeptical look.

“Yeah, the paint goes on better that way,” Eliot gestured for Hardison to gather up the paintbrushes he bought, “Everybody knows that.”

“Everybody knows that?” Hardison rolled his eyes, “Well, fine, then, I didn’t realize _your_ paintbrushes came with special instructions.”

Eliot glared at Hardison until he grabbed his paintbrushes and followed Eliot to the sink, muttering about how he wasn’t even sure Eliot’s help was worth it anymore and how did _everyone_ really know the ins and outs of painting and how the hell did Eliot even know that anyway?

“Okay,” Hardison said when they finished wetting each individual paintbrush and roller. “Now that it’s been twenty minutes, do you think we can actually start painting?”

Eliot didn’t dignify that with a response, just began prying open the paint can.

Hardison was fixing the corner of the drop cloth, so he wasn’t looking at Eliot when the lid finally came off the can.

Eliot began to laugh, a deep, real laugh that made Hardison very nervous.

“What?” Hardison stood up straight. “What’s so funny?”

Eliot just gestured at the paint can.

Hardison walked over hesitantly.

“You let Parker pick the color, didn’t you?” Eliot asked, still laughing. “At least we know that weird little robot of yours will fit right in.”

The paint was green. It was _very_ green.

Hardison rubbed his face, “Okay, hang on, let me call her.”

Eliot nodded, “Yeah, man, you do that.”

“Hey, uh, Parker?” Hardison said when she answered the phone.

“Hey, what’s up?” Parker asked, sounding concerned.

“Uh, nothing—nothing much, how are you and Sophie doing?” Hardison stalled. Eliot shot him a knowing look from across the room, and Hardison waved him off.

“We’re fine,” Parker said, and Hardison could tell that she knew something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong, Hardison?”

“Uh, well, it’s just that, this paint you bought—”

“What about it?” Parker interrupted.

“It’s green, Parker. It’s like the greenest green I’ve ever seen,” Hardison said.

Normally Parker would laugh at his accidental rhyme, but all she said was, “I thought we agreed on green for the nursery.”

Hardison sighed, immediately feeling guilty for how small her voice sounded. “We did, babe, but I figured you’d get, like, pastel green or something. Like, a baby green.”

“Baby green?” Parker repeated.

Hardison rubbed his face tiredly, “Yeah.”

“But Baby liked this green,” Parker said. “Baby _really_ liked this one.”

Hardison took a deep breath, “Okay. You know what, we’ll try it and see what it looks like when it’s on the wall.”

“You’ll use that green?”

“Sure, babe,” Hardison said, “Why not? Baby won’t know the difference.”

“Yes, Baby will,” Parker argued, but she sounded happy again, “Because Baby _likes_ that green.”

“Right. Okay. We’ll get right on painting it, then. Bye, babe.” Hardison hung up.

Eliot raised an eyebrow, “So?”

“We’re using this green,” Hardison said, picking up a paintbrush.

Eliot followed suit, smiling, “Any particular reason?”

“Baby likes this one.” Hardison said, shaking his head and dipping the brush in the electric green paint.

 

~o0o~

 

Hardison had to admit that the color wasn’t as terrible as he thought it would be (despite the room looking like it was glowing even when the lights were out). It was bright, that’s for sure, but he had to admit that it felt happy, and the whole thing seemed very Parker.

Parker thought so, too.

She had a huge grin on her face when Hardison finally let her back in the room the next day. “See,” she said, spinning around in the middle of the room, “This is perfect!”

“Yeah,” Hardison looked from Parker to the walls, “I guess it is. Baby likes it?”

Parker stopped spinning, “Baby loves it!” She kissed him, and then grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the stairs. “C’mon, we can set up the furniture now.”

“You mean _I_ can set up the furniture,” Hardison corrected, but let Parker pull him around. “You’re not carrying anything.”

Parker huffed, but didn’t argue.

“So,” Hardison said a few hours later when he was scooting the last piece of furniture (the changing table) into place. He got it against the wall and leaned against it to face Parker, who was arranging stuffed animals in the rocking chair. “Besides the fact that Baby liked this color, what made you go with something so. . . bright?”

Parker sighed, and then turned to face him, resting her hand on the white rocking chair. “What do you mean?” She crossed the room, small stuffed bunny in hand, and at first Hardison thought she was bringing it to him, but instead she nudged him until he moved to the side a little so she could put the bunny on the top of the changing table.

“I mean, why do you like this color so much?” Hardison asked, watching her. She didn’t look at him, even though they were right next to each other, just stared down at the little bunny.

“Don’t you think it looks nice?” Parker asked, tapping the changing table with her finger, “I made sure it would look good with all the white furniture.”

“Yeah, I think it looks fine, Parker,” Hardison said. He waited a minute, and then shook his head, giving up on the question.

He was just about to go find something else that needed to be done when Parker spoke.

“I just thought it was a good color,” she said, “It works for Baby, since it’s gender neutral, and even though we said there isn’t a difference between a firetruck and a ballerina, I know you still want to keep things neutral ‘til we know if Baby’s a boy or a girl. And, it’s green—my favorite—so it makes me happy when I’m in here. I thought it would make Baby happy too, if Baby is like me. And . . . and it’s bright, so it won’t be too dark or scary in case Baby—in case Baby ever gets scared at night and thinks the walls are closing in.”

 _Like you_.

That’s the part she didn’t say. In case Baby gets scared and thinks the walls are closing in, _like you did after you were buried alive._

Parker wasn’t trying to call him out on something he was afraid of, she wasn’t trying to make him ashamed or upset, she was genuinely afraid that Baby would inherit his claustrophobia, and she wanted to do what she could to make sure that Baby—and Hardison—would be comfortable in the nursery.

God, what did he do to deserve this woman?

“Okay,” Hardison said, nodding. “That makes sense. Good call, babe.”

“Yeah?” Parker bit her lip, eyes still worried.

“Yeah,” Hardison pulled her close, “I love you, mama.”

Parker smiled and buried her nose deeper in his neck. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t have to. Hardison knew what still couldn’t say.


	6. The Third Trimester Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the home stretch of Parker's pregnancy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes from:  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-28-weeks_1117.bc  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-34-weeks_1123.bc  
> https://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-38-weeks_1127.bc

28 weeks

“By this week, your baby weighs 2 1/4 pounds (about the size of a large eggplant) and measures 14.8 inches from the top of her head to her heels. She can blink her eyes, which now sport lashes. With her eyesight developing, she may be able to see the light that filters in through your womb. She's also developing billions of neurons in her brain and adding more body fat in preparation for life in the outside world.” -babycenter.com

Hardison sat at his computer downstairs in the back rooms of the brew pub. If he were to take the time to glance at the clock in the corner of his screen, he knew what it would say. 2:45am. (Ironic that he’d gotten so upset at Parker for keeping him awake this late a few weeks ago, when he was now semi-regularly up until almost 3.)

He could tell it had to be getting close to 3am, because his eyes felt like they were shriveling up, and the squiggles on the screen were dancing, and he was half-blinded by the brightness level he’d jacked up around midnight to try and stay awake.

A part of him knew he shouldn’t be doing this. A large part, backed by everything on the screen in front of him, knew that he should sleep now, while he could.

He rubbed his face, trying to irritate his eyes into functioning properly, and considered giving in to the little voice whispering that he should grab a cup of coffee.

“Hardison?”

Hardison jumped like a rabbit, whirling around.

Parker was halfway down the stairs, frowning at him and trying to blink the sleep from her own eyes. “Why are you still up?” She came the rest of the way down the steps, pulling her robe tighter around her maternity nightgown.

“Oh, uh,” Hardison turned back to his computer, quickly minimizing the tabs before swirling back to Parker, “Just stuff for a job, is all.”

He figured it was about time she caught him. Since about week 20 she’d gone to bed before him every night, and he’d discovered that he could use this to his advantage, as long as he made sure not to wake her when he came to bed at odd hours of the morning.

Parker crossed her arms over her chest, standing a few feet away from him. “We don’t currently have a job.”

Hardison deflated, letting out a puff of air and giving up on any chance of hiding what he was doing from Parker. “I know, babe.”

“Why did you lie?” Parker asked, fingering the edge of her robe. She wasn’t accusatory, just curious, and Hardison figured he should be lucky that she wasn’t mad at him.

“I didn’t want you to worry, is all,” Hardison said, turning half around to open his tabs back up.

Parker came over next to him and leaned down to inspect the screen. She clicked through a few of the tabs. “These are like those articles you give me to read sometimes,” she said, “About parenting and babies and stuff.” She straightened, “I thought you already found enough of those.”

Hardison chuckled darkly, “These are for me, babe, not you.”

Parker looked confused, “But you already read the ones you gave me.”

“Yeah, I know I did,” Hardison said shortly. What part of this wasn’t she understanding? It was really simple, and he didn’t want to have to spell it out for her because that would only make him feel worse.

“Did you want me to read about something else?” Parker asked, completely willing to do whatever he wanted her to do, whatever he thought she needed to do, in order be a better mother.

“No, _I_ need to read more!” Hardison snapped, his tone sharp. He almost never spoke to her like that.

Parker blinked at him, and she looked hurt, but she didn’t move away. “Why do you need to read things that I don’t?”

Hardison slammed his hand down on the desk and exploded out of his chair, stalking to the other side of the room, facing away from her. Parker still didn’t move, just watched him.

“Because, Parker!” Hardison choked out, and then he stopped and collected himself, “Because I just keep thinking, one more article, one more website, just one more and I’ll find it,” he turned back around, hands dropping loosely down by his side, looking defeated. “But I don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

Parker’s eyes narrowed slightly and she pursed her lips, wearing the face that she got when she was faced with any problem from a top-notch security system to Eliot’s unwillingness to let her eat cereal and pretzels for lunch. “How long have you been doing this?”

Hardison sighed, unable to meet her eyes, “Couple weeks, at least. Not every night, but . . .” he trailed off, shrugging.

“But a lot of them,” Parker finished, nodding like that put another piece of the puzzle into place.

Hardison waited, not sure what to say.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Parker stepped forward, away from the desk, crossing her arms, for the first time looking and sounding angry. “You _know_ how scared I am,” she said, “You _know_ I have no idea how to be a mother, and you know I’ve told you all of this. I’ve been trying to tell you all my feeling this whole time!” Parker stopped, taking a deep breath, “Why won’t you tell me when you’re worried too? You’re the one that told me that there was nothing wrong with being scared,” her voice broke and Hardison realized that she was about to cry.

He immediately moved forward, taking her gently by the shoulders. “I didn’t want you to have to worry about me too,” he said quietly, brushing his thumbs up and down on her arms, “I knew that you thought I’d have no problem with this—you said the day we found out that you thought I’d be better at this than you—and I didn’t want you to know that I—” he stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I just don’t want to let you and Baby down, that’s all.”

“You’re not going to let us down, Alec,” Parker said, “You couldn’t. But that doesn’t mean that I think you’re gonna be perfect. I know you’re not perfect.”

Hardison chuckled in spite of himself, “Thanks, mama, that means a lot.” He said it sarcastically in response to the ‘you’re not perfect’ remark, but he really was thankful to hear that she wasn’t afraid he’d let them down in some way, shape, or form.

Parker gave him a look, “I’m serious. You’re allowed to be scared too. But—” she looked at his computer, glowing brightly on his desk, “There’s not some big secret out there that will magically give you all the answers. You know that. I know that. And, even if there were, you wouldn’t find it one some daddy blog at three in the morning.”

Hardison looked at her and shook his head, smiling, “I just hope I can be half as good as you, Parker.”

Parker blinked at him, startled, “What?”

Hardison took her hands in his, playing with her fingers. “You’re going to be—you already are—a fantastic mother. I know it.”

“How,” Parker smiled softly, “How do you know it?”

“You talk to Baby constantly, about everything, and you do things that you don’t want to do because it’s good for Baby, like that glucose screening test—” Parker made a face at the memory, sticking out her tongue. “—and you’ve already given up so much, you’ve confined yourself to the brew pub on cons, and I thought you were going to fight that woman in the furniture store—”

“She shouldn’t have tried to tell me that Baby couldn’t pick the nursery furniture,” Parker interjected, rolling her eyes.

Hardison held back a laugh, “No, you’re right, she shouldn’t have. I’m sure she’ll be more careful with expectant mothers from now on.”

Parker nodded triumphantly.

“The point is, Parker,” Hardison went on, “I have complete faith in you. Just the fact that you care so much about screwing up proves you’re going to do great, and our kid is lucky to have you.”

The room was silent for a beat.

“The same goes for you, too, you know,” Parker said finally.

Hardison froze, surprised to hear his words turned back on him, “Yeah . . . I guess it does.”

Parker smiled and kissed him. “If you want to keep researching, I’m not going to stop you, but I’d really like it if you’d come to bed with me.”

Hardison glanced at his computer for a second, and then nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

34 weeks

“Your baby now weighs about 4 3/4 pounds (about the size of a cantaloupe) and is almost 18 inches long. Her fat layers – which will help regulate her body temperature once she's born – are filling her out, making her rounder. Her skin is also smoother than ever. Her central nervous system is maturing, and her lungs are continuing to mature as well. If you've been nervous about preterm labor, you'll be happy to know that babies born between 34 and 37 weeks who have no other health problems generally do fine. They may need a short stay in the neonatal nursery and may have a few short-term health issues, but in the long run, they usually do as well as full-term babies.” -babycenter.com

“Okay, mama,” Hardison said, pushing the shopping cart down the brightly lit aisle of the grocery store. “What weird concoction would you like to scare me with this week?”

Parker glared at him, but she knew he was teasing her. She’d insisted on coming with him to the store, since the last time he’d gone alone he forgot to get olives, and how could she possibly eat her cheesecake without olives? Hardison had to leave the room when she ate most of the time, and even Eliot gave up on cooking for her other than force feeding her things with all the nutrients she and the baby needed in preparation for the final few weeks and subsequent birth.

Parker sighed, blowing out a puff of air to knock her hair back from her face, “I don’t know. I’m not hungry now, and I won’t know what I want until I’m hungry.”

Various and multiple future trips to the store flashed in front of Hardison’s eyes and he hoped that Eliot would have whatever Parker decided she wanted in the brew pub kitchen when the time came. “Okay, well, why don’t we wander around and—”

He was interrupted by a woman approaching Parker from behind. The woman looked like Elmer Fudd trying to sneak up on the wabbits as she poked her head around and looked Parker up and down.

Hardison was trying to figure out if they knew this woman from somewhere when she began speaking rapid fire, her voice inching up several notches as more and more words spewed out, “Hi, wow. You’re pregnant! That’s awesome! I’ve always wanted to be pregnant, but I can’t seem to keep a man long enough,” she chuckled and turned from a dumbfounded Parker to eye Hardison, “Are you her man? You seem like you’re her man. That’s nice! I just wanted to wish you luck with your upcoming endeavor in parenthood. You seem like you’ll do great!” The woman’s focus swung back to Parker, “How’s the pregnancy going? Oh, I bet you’re craving all kinds of crazy things! Do you know the gender? Oooh! Do you have a name picked out yet? What’s sex like?”

Hardison’s eyebrows shot up, and he was pretty sure the face he was making wasn’t very polite, but he knew it couldn’t be worse than Parker’s look of disgust and confusion. The woman was still asking questions and giving them no time to answer, not that they would answer them in the first place since they were edging into gruesome detail territory pretty quickly and _they didn’t even know this woman!_

Hardison probably should have expected something like this to happen. Random women had been flocking to Parker since she started to show. The bigger she got, the more they came. Apparently, the only thing more attractive than shoe sales, wine tasting, or free chocolate to women in public places was a pregnant woman in a public place. Usually they just hovered or offered a congrats or a sympathetic smile from the mothers, and Parker could handle those pretty well. Parker could _not_ handle being accosted by a flurry of queries from a very excited grocery store lady, and he didn’t blame her.

“Oh, this is just so exciting!” the woman was still going strong, “I was wondering, do you mind if I see if he kicks for me? He’s a boy, right? You know what they say, boys give you beauty and girls take it, and you look fantastic! Can I—?” The woman stuck out her hand like she was going to touch Parker’s stomach.

Parker’s hand shot out with an incredible speed that would have surprised anybody but Hardison. She clamped her hand around the woman’s wrist, stopping those outstretched manicured fingers. Parker didn’t speak, just glared at the woman and showed no sign of letting go.

“Uh,” Hardison cleared his throat, “She doesn’t really like to be touched,” he told the woman, who was finally silent and looking slightly terrified by the look in Parker’s eyes. “But, uh,” Hardison shot Parker a ‘let go of her’ look, but Parker didn’t move, “Thanks for the congrats and all, and, uh, we really need to get back to our shopping. Right, babe?” He shot Parker another pointed look and she finally released the woman.

The woman snatched her hand back, cradling it against her chest, but not before Hardison saw red half-moon shaped marks on her wrist where Parker’s nails dug into her skin. The woman looked for a moment like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it and just walked away.

Hardison sighed and shook his head, turning back to the shopping cart. He found himself glad that there hadn’t been any forks nearby.

Parker was moving on like nothing had happened, walking slightly ahead of the cart with a bounce in her step despite her tendency to waddle. “I’m hungry now,” she said.

“Great!” Hardison hurried to keep up with her. How the hell could a woman that size be that fast? “What are you craving? Peanut butter pizza? Mustard on a doughnut? Ice cream with mushrooms?” He was exaggerating, but not by much.

Parker turned around and stuck out her tongue at him. “No, I’m hungry _now_ ,” she repeated, stopping and looking at him expectantly.

“Oh,” Hardison understood, and fished around in his pockets for some cash, because heaven forbid she ever use any of her own, “Here you go,” he handed her a twenty, “Go find you something. You can wait for me at the front of the store. I’ll get the rest of the stuff I know we need. But, babe, _please_ , text me if you think of anything you’ll want this week.”

Parker nodded, and kissed his cheek before heading off into the store.

Hardison watched her for a second, and then shook his head and started perusing the aisle, trying to figure out what the hell that woman would want.

It took him close to an hour to make it through the store and check out. Parker hadn’t texted him anything she wanted, but he wasn’t really too worried about it, since she was currently eating whatever she’d bought and probably wasn’t thinking about food for later. He pushed the cart, now full of bagged groceries, up and down the area behind the checkout, trying to find Parker. She wasn’t on the benches, or standing around waiting anywhere. He wondered if she might have stepped outside to wait, so he edged the cart through the whooshing automatic doors and out into the parking lot. Parker was no where to be found out here, either. He pulled out his phone and tried to call her.

No answer.

Hardison was panicking a bit now. He hurried to the car, hoping to find it gone because that would at least mean she probably drove herself home without telling him, but the car was sitting right where they’d left it and there wasn’t any sign that Parker had returned to it. He tried to call her again, but all he got was her voicemail.

Dammit. _Dammit_!

Hardison quickly loaded the groceries into the car, and headed back inside the store to look one more time, dialing Eliot’s number on the way.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker kissed Hardison on the cheek as she took the cash from him and skipped (well, skipped as well as a woman with a bowling ball for a belly could) through the store towards the crackers, only getting sidetracked by shiny things twice on her way there. Even though it was true that she’d been eating a few things that Hardison and Eliot called weird and may have made Sophie gag uncontrollably that one time, this time she was in the mood for something simple and crunchy so she bought a package of peanut butter crackers. She found a bench where she could sit and see Hardison when he finished the rest of the shopping and opened up the outer box to pull out an individually wrapped pack of six cracker sandwiches. She sat the rest of them in the grocery bag on the bench next to her.

She was munching on her second cracker when a woman sat on the bench right next to hers. After a minute the woman leaned over, “Hi, I’m Karen.”

“Alice,” Parker mumbled through a mouth of cracker, hoping the woman would leave it at that, and wishing a teensy bit for the days before she met the team when she felt less obligated to be polite to random people.

“My, you surely have a glow, don’t you?” Karen continued, smiling at her in a way that was probably supposed to be nice and friendly, but came off as vaguely threatening to Parker. “You look like you’re just about to pop!”

“Pop?” Parker repeated, swallowing the cracker and looking down at her stomach.

Karen waved a hand, “I just mean that you look like you could give birth any second.”

Parker’s eyebrows shot up, “Any second?” She pulled another cracker out of the plastic wrapping and took a hesitant bite.

Karen shrugged, “Just an observation, dear. I’ve never been pregnant myself, but my sister, she was still a few weeks out from her due date, and was out and about, thought everything was fine, but her water broke and then plop! Out came baby! She only labored for about forty-five minutes, lucky duck. I wasn’t there, of course, but still.”

“Plop?” Parker’s eyes widened and she bit her lip, wrapping up the remaining crackers and sticking them in the grocery bag.

Karen nodded vigorously, “Plop,” she affirmed. She was about to say something else, but she noticed whoever it was she was waiting on and stood up. “Well, good luck to you, dear.” She left to join her companion.

Parker stood, grabbing the grocery bag and walking assuredly towards the door. She had a few things to take care of.

 

~o0o~

 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Sophie said through the coms, unaware that everyone listening knew she was using her ‘con the team’ voice. “We’ve seen her disappear from places, on foot I might add, and end up at the rendezvous point before we get there in the car.”

“Not when she’s eight months pregnant!” Hardison argued, barely able to keep his voice down. “Where the hell is she going to walk to, when her ankles swell up just from standing still? And why the hell won’t she answer her goddamn phone!” He swerved into traffic much more aggressively than he normally would.

Eliot was in the brew pub when Hardison called, so Hardison had him check the back rooms and their apartment to see if she was there. When he didn’t find her, Eliot took off to check a few of her other properties, and Hardison called Nate and Sophie to see if they’d heard from her. Nate suggested they all put in their coms to make the search easier to coordinate and he and Sophie headed for the properties that Eliot hadn’t made it to yet. Hardison spent the better part of an hour searching the area around the store before Nate calmly suggested that he find a computer and hack into the store’s surveillance system to see if he could track her. Hardison was on the way back to the brew pub now so he could use all of his equipment.

“That’s the last of her warehouses,” Eliot said as Hardison entered the brew pub, scanning automatically for any sign of a bright blonde head, “She’s not here, man.”

Hardison sighed, “Great. Thanks. I’m at my computers now. It shouldn’t take more than a second too—”

“Ouch!”

Hardison stopped dead, “Parker?” he dropped his keyboard, computer forgotten. “Parker, are you there?”

“I’m under here!” That was definitely Parker’s voice, coming from . . . underneath his gadget repair desk?

“Parker?” Hardison hurried over to the adjacent room, ducking down to look under the desk.

There was Parker, 34 weeks pregnant and sitting under a desk, looking very squished and very annoyed.

“What the hell are you doing under there?” Hardison crouched down next to her, “Guys, I found her. She’s here.”

“Thank goodness!” Sophie said, “Tell her we were worried sick!” Nate and Eliot echoed the sentiment.

Hardison promised he would and pulled out his com, putting it on the desk above Parker. “Are you okay?” he asked, trying to see if she was sitting down there for fun or if she was stuck. “You had us all going crazy, girl.”

“Sorry,” Parker said, wincing as she tried to twist her head but was stopped by the top of the desk above her.

“Here,” Hardison took her hands and helped her stand up. When she finally got upright she gripped his arms tighter for a second, blinking away blue spots as her blood pressure dropped briefly. “You good?” Hardison asked, more than willing to keep a grip on her, even if it was just to stop her from disappearing again.

“Yeah,” Parker nodded, “I’d just like to sit down.”

“Sure thing,” Hardison helped her to the nearest chair. “You mind telling me what you were doing, disappearing from the store and ending up back here underneath my desk?” he asked when she got settled.

Parker shrugged, not meeting his eyes, “I realized I had some things to take care of, and I didn’t think they could wait.”

“What things?” Hardison pulled up a chair of his own next to her.

Parker shrugged again, took a deep breath, and let everything out, “You know, things. We can’t just assume that Baby is going to come when the doctors say, Baby could decide to come early, and Karen said that babies could just plop, and what if Baby comes and we’re not ready yet?”

“Who’s Karen?” Hardison asked leaning forward in his chair and putting a comforting hand on Parker’s knee. “And what the hell does she know? The doctors have said there’s no reason to think that anything is going wrong or is out of the ordinary. And if the baby comes early, we’ll deal with it. That just means we get to meet Baby sooner, right? It’ll be okay.”

“I know all that,” Parker huffed, looking exasperated, “I just need to take care of some things in case it happens.”

“What kind of things?” Hardison leaned back, eyebrows scrunching together.

Parker began to tick things off on her fingers, “Covering the outlets, putting away pointy stuff, cleaning the nursery, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning down here, putting together Baby’s swing and car seat. You know, we should probably just go ahead and sanitize everything, you need to take care of all the wires and tools and things, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, Parker,” Hardison held up his hands, “Hang on just a minute. Are you _nesting_?”

Parker frowned, and cocked her head to the side, considering. “Probably.”

Hardison shook his head, chuckling, “I can’t believe you, girl. You disappeared from the store, somehow made it all the way back here—”

“I took a bus. And walked. But I stopped at a store for outlet covers first,” Parker interrupted.

“—just so you could start nesting?” Hardison rubbed his face, holding back laughter.

Parker looked annoyed, “It’s not funny, Hardison! This stuff needs to get done.”

“I know it’s not funny,” Hardison said, but he was still chuckling which didn’t help his case any. “I think it’s cute, mama. I just wish you’d given me some warning first.”

Parker nodded, looking appropriately contrite, “Sorry about that.”

“You’re forgiven,” Hardison tucked her hair behind her ear, “You know we don’t need to cover the outlets until the baby is mobile?”

“Yes,” Parker gave him a ‘duh’ look. “But we _do_ have to make sure that there aren’t any choking hazards or tripping hazards and that cords are out of reach, which was why I was under your desk.”

“Okay,” Hardison said, “You know what, why don’t you make a list of all the things that need to be done, and I can get started on the most important ones first and work my way down from there.”

Parker smiled, but then bit her lip, “Can ‘go back to the store’ be the first thing on the list?”

Hardison sighed, and shook his head ruefully. He stood and offered his hand to Parker, “Come on, baby girl, what’re you craving this time?”

Parker smiled thoughtfully and followed Hardison out of the room, “What about something spicy?”

 

* * *

 

 

38 weeks

“Your baby has really plumped up. She weighs about 6.8 pounds and is over 19 1/2 inches long (about the length of a leek). She has a firm grasp, which you'll soon be able to test when you hold her hand for the first time! Her organs have matured and are ready for life outside the womb.” -babycenter.com

Hardison adjusted his tie in the elevator. He had no desire to be here. None, at all. Yes, it was good to help the clients and all that, but this job had gone on a week longer than it was supposed to, and he was an hour away from Parker when she needed him. Might need him. Maybe. They were getting really close to her due date now, only two weeks left, and he didn’t want to take any chances. The good news was that they (or Parker and Hardison, at least) weren’t going to take another job until well after Baby’s arrival.

“Okay, Sophie, where are you?” Parker’s voice came through the coms. She sounded a little stressed and slightly uncomfortable, like she was sitting in a bad position or the Braxton Hicks contractions were starting up again.

“I’m still in Portland,” Sophie sounded exasperated. “Richardson would _not_ let me leave the bar.”

“Okay, that means Nate will have to stall Jenson,” Parker said, “Nate can you—” she broke off for a second, made a small grunting sound, and then continued, “—can you stall Jenson until Sophie gets there?”

The elevator stopped on his floor, and Hardison stepped out of it. “Parker, is everything—”

Nate cut him off, “You want me to stall him for another hour? What do you want me to do? Get Eliot in here to knock him unconscious and hope he doesn’t remember it when he wakes up?”

“No,” Parker sounded annoyed, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary these days, so Hardison let go of the breath he was holding. “Look, here’s what you’re going to do,” Parker said. She laid out a plan, _the_ perfect plan, really, and Hardison was, not for the first time, overcome with pride.

He was about to head back towards the elevator, when she let out a cross between a gasp and a grunt, probably one of the closest things to a cry of pain that Hardison had ever heard from her, even when she tore her ACL, she suffered mostly in silence. This sounded like the worst noise he’d ever heard her make. “Parker?”

She didn’t answer.

“ _Parker_?” he called her name again, loudly and in a hallway full of people, but he really didn’t care.

“Sorry,” Parker gasped out, “Contractions are hard to talk through.”

“Contractions?” Hardison repeated, stopping dead. “ _Contractions_?”

“Yeah,” Parker sighed shakily, “We’re gonna have to change the plan again. Baby is coming now.”


	7. The Ready-or-Not-Here-Baby-Comes Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker is in labor and Hardison is miles away. Get ready to meet Baby!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! This chapter was so much easier to write than I thought it'd be. I'd like to thank everyone again for being so wonderful and supporting this story, and I hope you continue to enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. (Disclaimer, I know nothing about labor/birth besides what I read online and imagine, so hopefully I got this pretty close, but please excuse any mistakes I may have made)

Parker was pretty sure it was nothing. The weird pain at four in the morning was probably nothing. It only happened occasionally, and, besides, it went away when she snuck out of bed and took a nice hot shower. Hardison didn’t even notice, which was good since he needed his sleep for the last day of their job.

The shower helped a lot, but she did have a bit of trouble going back to sleep, waking up every so often when the weird little pain started up again. She was sure it was fine. It _had_ to be fine, Hardison was leaving today, so this was nothing more than pregnancy gas, or stronger Braxton Hicks. That’s all.

After Hardison left, giving her a much stronger goodbye kiss than usual, Parker sat herself down in the chair in front of the big screen, her masterminding chair, the same one she’d been stuck in when she tore her ACL. She didn’t really mind being left behind on all the jobs, she _was_ still getting to mastermind which meant she still felt needed and not completely useless, but she did miss getting to break into safes or offices or armored cars or moving trains. She was secretly afraid that she’d lost her touch after all this time, and she’d never get to do any of that again, not with Baby and her body going all wonky.

Speaking of her wonky body, there was that pain again. Slightly stronger, and coming sooner after the last one.  It was getting harder to talk through them.

Parker wasn’t so sure that it was nothing anymore. Especially when the next one hit so hard that she let out a noise that got the whole team’s attention.

“Parker?”

She registered that they were calling her name, but she was focusing all of her energy on holding back another cry of pain. After a few seconds, the pain subsided, and she could speak again. “Sorry,” she let out a breath, finally admitting to herself what was going on, “Contractions are hard to talk through.”

“Contractions? _Contractions_?” Hardison sounded panicky, and suddenly Parker was a lot more scared than she’d been a second ago.

“Yeah,” Parker said, trying to stay calm, “We’re going to have to change the plan again. Baby is coming now.”

There was a second of silence, and then everyone began to speak at once.

“Don’t worry, Parker, I’m still in Portland, I can come get you and take you to the hospital.” Parker could hear horns blaring as Sophie presumably turned around in a less than legal fashion.

“Wait, we don’t even know if she needs to go yet.” That was Nate, using his ‘in case of emergency’ voice.

“What do you mean?” Eliot demanded, “She’s going into labor! Hardison, get to the car, I’m taking you back to Portland.”

“No, if you go in too early, they’ll send you away until you’re further along,” Nate explained quickly, “They did it with Maggie. Parker, how far apart are the contractions? How long do they last?”

Parker considered, “About five minutes apart, lasting about 45 seconds.”

“And how long have they been like that?”

“Uh, an hour,” Parker shrugged. “But they just got a lot worse.”

“Have you been timing them this whole time without telling us?” Sophie asked.

“No,” Parker frowned, “Why would I need to time them?”

“Parker, not everyone knows things like that!” Sophie sounded slightly exasperated. “I’m almost there.”

“Parker’s internal clock aside, if they’ve been happening like that then she needs to get to the hospital,” Nate said.

“No!” Parker stood up, “Wait! I can’t go to the hospital without Hardison!”

“Parker, I’m coming to the brew pub. to get you,” Sophie said, “And you _are_ going to the hospital right now.”

Parker was too busy realizing that Hardison hadn’t spoken since she told them she was in labor to really pay any attention to Sophie. “Hardison?” Parker said softly, stopping and leaning against the wall. She needed him to tell her what to do, to tell her it would be alright, like he always did. She _knew_ —she’d always known—that she couldn’t do this without him. Not this part. “Alec?”

“Go with Sophie to the hospital, Parker,” Hardison finally spoke, “Go to the hospital where the doctors can take care of you. I’m on my way back—”

“Wait for me, man,” Eliot broke in, and there were a few sounds in the background including a car door slamming. “No way I’m letting you drive right now.”

“Okay, Eliot’s bringing me back,” Hardison said, “Just—just go to the hospital. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“What about the case?” Parker asked, standing up straighter and trying to calm herself down.

“Don’t worry about that,” Nate said, “I’ll think of something. You don’t worry about anything except you and that baby.”

“I’m here,” Sophie said, and Parker felt another contraction hit as the door to the back rooms opened and Sophie stepped through.

Parker leaned against the wall, clenching her teeth, barely registering Sophie come up beside her and gently rub her back as they waited for the contraction to pass.

“Parker,” Hardison’s shaky breath came through the coms, “If your contractions are that close together then you’re probably already in active labor.”

“ _Active_ labor?” Sophie repeated, keeping a comforting hand on Parker’s back as her contraction ended, “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means it _hurts_ ,” Parker muttered, straightening and letting Sophie guide her to the door.

“How long?” Sophie asked, and it wasn’t hard to tell that she was afraid she’d have to deliver Baby on the side of the road.

“Uh, it—it depends,” Hardison was frantically trying to call up all the things he’d read.

“Just don’t plop,” Parker mumbled to Baby, rubbing her stomach as they exited the brew pub and headed to Sophie’s illegally parked car.

“Plop?” Sophie repeated, eyes wide.

“Nothing, Sophie,” Hardison said quickly. “On average, this stage of labor lasts four to eight hours, but it can be significantly more or less, and I’m not sure how long she’s been in labor. Just get to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Sophie nodded, steeling herself and helping Parker into the car. “Okay, we’re leaving now.”

“I think I may have been in early labor last night,” Parker admitted as Sophie pulled into traffic.

“What?” Hardison didn’t sound very happy, “You were in labor and you let me leave?”

Parker looked down even though Hardison was miles away and couldn’t see her face, “I didn’t think that’s what it was.”

Hardison was quiet, but they could hear his attempts to calm his breathing.

“Hardison?” Parker said quietly, “Hardison, what if—”

“I’ll get him there,” Eliot spoke up for the first time since he’d taken the keys from Hardison.

Parker had bitten her lip so hard during the last contraction that it was bleeding, but she didn’t really care. She just rubbed small circles on her stomach, trying to communicate to Baby that they’d get through this, that they’d be okay, that Hardison would be there when it mattered.

“Sophie?” Hardison’s quiet voice through the coms surprised Parker, but she didn’t speak.

“Yeah?”

“Take care of her.”

“Of course.” Sophie glanced over at Parker, and though the thief could feel her gaze, she didn’t show any sign of having heard them.

They drove the rest of the way to the hospital in silence, punctuated only by Parker’s small gasps with every contraction.

 

~o0o~

 

“Sophie!” Parker squeezed Sophie’s hand with that unusually strong grip of hers.

“I’m not going anywhere, Parker,” Sophie said, scooting her chair closer to Parker’s bed. “I already talked to the doctor, and they said it’s fine for me to stay with you until Hardison gets here.”

Parker was settled in a hospital bed, she’d been checked by the doctors several times now, and as far as they could tell she was progressing normally, which was a comfort and a concern for the thief, since she really wanted her labor to slow down until Hardison arrived. Parker had taken her com out, under Hardison’s orders, since he was worried one of the doctors would find it. Better safe than sorry, he said, but better sorry than unaware of the boys’ location was what Parker thought.

“I need him, Sophie,” Parker said, looking at the older woman and not bothering to try and hide her fear, “I’ve never even held a baby, and Hardison promised he’d be here so I don’t screw up. He’s supposed to be here for Baby until I’m sure that I can do it. I need him!”

“Parker,” Sophie brushed Parker’s hair back from her face, “Do you trust me?”

Parker frowned. What did she mean? What did that have to do with _anything_ right now?

“Do you trust me to take care of you if Hardison doesn’t make it? You’re not alone, Parker,” Sophie patted Parker’s hand with her free one. “Do you trust me?”

Parker bit her lip, and looked at her hand that was now wrapped in both of Sophie’s. “Yes,” she said it so softly that she wasn’t sure if Sophie could’ve heard her, but Sophie nodded.

“Do you trust Eliot?” Sophie smiled slightly, aware that she might be succeeding, “Do you trust him to keep his promise and get Hardison here on time?”

Parker nodded slowly.

“And, do you trust Hardison?” Sophie asked softly, “Do you trust him to make sure you don’t go through this alone?”

Parker took a deep breath. “Yes. Of course I trust Hardison.”

“Then everything is going to be fine, isn’t it?” Sophie finished, smiling brightly and leaning back in her seat, but she let Parker keep the grip on one of her hands. “It’ll be just fine.”

Parker smiled, and opened her mouth to thank Sophie, but another contraction hit, and any thought of speaking went out of Parker’s mind.

 

~o0o~

 

Eliot and Hardison tore through the hospital, coming to a halt at the nurse’s station. Hardison was pretty sure there wasn’t a traffic law in existence that Eliot hadn’t broken to get him here, but Hardison had no words to express his gratitude. Actually, Hardison didn’t have very many words at all; his current vocabulary seemed to be limited to ‘Parker’ and ‘Baby’ and ‘hospital’ so he let Eliot approach the nurse at the desk.

“Hey, there,” Eliot said, smiling his most charming smile and leaning forward on the desk. “I’m looking for Alice Parker’s room.”

The nurse smiled at Eliot, clicking on her computer to pull up the room number. “You the father?”

“The brother,” Eliot paused, “Not the baby’s brother, the mother’s brother. The baby’s uncle.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly, a little of his own worry shining through.

The nurse smiled, “I knew what you meant.”

“Right,” Eliot jabbed a finger over his shoulder at Hardison, who was alternating from shooting impatient looks in Eliot’s direction to trying to peer down the hallway as if there’d be a neon sign pointing the way to Parker’s room. “He’s the father.”

“Ah,” the nurse nodded, “Should’ve known.”

“We made it, didn’t we?” Hardison stepped forward to the desk, finally finding his voice, “Please tell me we’re not too late.”

The nurse smiled again, “Nope, it looks like Alice is still laboring in room 24. You can go on back, but I’m afraid unless we get permission from the mother, it’s hospital policy to not let anyone other than the father in the room.”

Eliot nodded, “That’s fine. I honestly don’t want to see all that anyway. I’ll sit over here,” he said to Hardison, but the other man was already gone down the hall towards room 24.

 

~o0o~

 

 “Oh, Parker,” Sophie said exasperatedly after a contraction passed, “I wish you’d let them give you the epidural.”

“No!” Parker said vehemently, “I can’t. I don’t do medicine, Sophie, remember? I’m not gonna let them do anything to me that could mess with me, and make me feel all funny.”

Sophie sighed, but she let the subject drop and told the nurse that they could stop offering the pain meds. She was about to pull out her phone and call Eliot when the door banged open and Hardison pushed his way inside.

“Parker!”

All the tension left Parker in an instant, “Hardison.”

“Hey, I’m here, babe.”

Sophie quickly moved out of the way, letting Hardison take the chair and Parker’s hand from her. “I’ll go find Eliot,” she said, hand on the doorknob, “You’re going to do great, both of you,” she added, and then she was gone.

The doctor came back in, and more of the nurses, and they checked her again, but Parker wasn’t really paying attention to them, or to the pain, because Hardison was here, he was holding her hand, he was smiling at her, he was touching her face, and it was going to be okay, because Hardison was here for her and for Baby, and they could do anything if they had him.

The doctor was saying something, and Hardison was listening to it like it was important, but Parker hadn’t heard whatever it was, not just because she’d stopped listening, but also because of the enormous pressure she was suddenly experiencing, “Um,” she was pretty sure she interrupted whatever the doctor was saying, but she really didn’t care, “I think it’s time to push now.”

What happened next was a blur to Parker, a bunch of pushing and waiting, like stop and go traffic, if stop and go traffic involved being stabbed repeatedly. But the pain was definitely easier to manage now, and Hardison was there, and he was getting excited because there was Baby’s head, they could see it and then there was more of Baby, and then Baby was out—Baby was out? It must be true, the pain had subsided some—and then the nurse was placing _something_ on her stomach, something wiggly and noisy and wrapped in a blanket, something that Hardison was staring at like it was the most important thing in the world, and it _was_ the most important thing in the world, because that was _Baby_ on her stomach.

“Are you going to tell her?” the nurse asked, nudging Hardison and smiling.

“Tell her?” Hardison repeated, completely stupefied.

“Tell her the gender, of course,” the nurse chuckled, “I can tell her, but we usually let the dad do it—”

“Girl,” Hardison recovered some of his sense, reaching down to touch Baby’s face lightly, “Baby’s a girl.”

A girl. Parker looked at Baby, really looked at her for the first time since they’d plunked her on Parker’s stomach. Baby looked funny, and she wasn’t the cleanest, but she’d stopped crying and she was _moving_ and she was _breathing_ and Parker just stared, stared at that precious little bundle laying on her belly, pressed against her skin, stared at her _daughter_ , at Hardison’s _daughter_ , and for the first time, she really felt it.

She was a mother.

 

~o0o~

 

The nurses let Hardison cut the umbilical cord, and then they whisked Baby away, off of Parker’s stomach and over to a small exam table in the corner of the room, checking her reflexes and her bones and her everything else. Hardison looked torn between following Baby over to watch her examination and staying with Parker.

Parker smiled, looking over to where a nurse was bustling around Baby in the corner. Baby was crying again, apparently not a fan of whatever the nurse was doing, and Parker completely understood Hardison’s urge to go and be with their child. She nodded in Baby’s direction, “Go ahead. I’m fine.”

Hardison nodded and kissed Parker’s forehead before he moved over to look at Baby.

Parker let the nurse and doctor coach her through the last bit of the labor, trusting that Hardison would take care of Baby, make sure everything was okay, until she was done.

Fifteen minutes later and the doctor was saying that both mama and baby were in good shape and he was going to take his leave, leaving them in the care of the rest of the staff. Parker was exhausted, but she sat up as straight as she could, feeling strangely energetic, when the nurse brought Baby back towards the bed.

“Your boyfriend indicated that you want to breastfeed now, before we take her for the rest of her tests and shots?” the nurse asked, glancing from Hardison to Parker for confirmation. Hardison was hovering directly over the nurse’s shoulder, probably standing way too close, but the nurse seemed used to it.

“Yeah,” Parker nodded, but she was suddenly hit by a wave of fear stronger than almost any she’d ever experienced. She froze.

The nurse looked at her expectantly, waiting to pass Baby over to Parker, but Parker couldn’t make her arms move.

After and awkward second, Hardison spoke up, “Here, I’ll take her.”

Parker watched with wide eyes as the nurse handed Baby over to Hardison, who looked equal parts terrified and awestruck as he held Baby in his arms for the first time.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything,” the nurse said, “If not, we’ll be back to get her in about an hour.” She left, shooting them a smile on her way out.

Hardison and Parker were alone with Baby, and Parker still couldn’t move.

Baby made a little noise, breaking the silence, and suddenly Parker could speak.

“Hardison,” she said softly, biting her lip.

“It’s okay, mama,” Hardison carefully sat in the chair by Parker’s bed, settling Baby more securely in his arms. “You don’t have to take her if you don’t want to. I’ve got her until you’re ready.”

Parker let out a sharp sigh, “No, I need to. I just . . .”

“I’m right here,” Hardison scooted closer, outstretching Baby towards Parker. “I’m not going to let anything happen, you know that.”

Parker’s arms opened automatically, and then Baby was there, pressed against her skin like before, except cradled in her arms this time, and it felt _right_ and suddenly Parker wasn’t scared anymore.

It took a while before Parker looked up from Baby, who was now eating steadily. “She’s beautiful,” Parker said, meeting Hardison’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Hardison had the same stupid grin on his face that he’d had since Baby had let out her first cry. He cleared his throat, “I don’t think you have to worry about hurting her, Parker. If there’s anyone that doesn’t need to be afraid of holding a baby, it’s you.”

Parker had let her gaze slip down to Baby, but now she looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve got the most delicate hands in the world, babe,” Hardison reached up and touched her face, “You’ve got the lightest touch of any thief in the whole world, and you know it. Those hands of yours have held treasures, ancient and new, everything from jewels to paintings to artifacts so old they could disintegrate if you look at them the wrong way. You’ve had plenty of practice holding treasures, Parker.”

Parker smiled, and looked down at Baby again. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

They sat in contented silence for a few minutes, watching as Baby eventually slowed, and then fell asleep with a tiny little yawn.

“Hardison?” Parker looked over at him, shifting Baby slightly now that she was done eating.

Baby’s movement knocked Hardison from his stare-at-Baby spell, and he looked at Parker, who met his gaze, stared him right in the eyes.

“I love you,” she said.

Hardison froze.

Parker bit her lip, and looked down again.

“What?” Hardison’s voice was strangled.

Parker’s eyes flicked back up to his face, “I love you.”

Hardison’s face cracked open, and he laughed, a long and joyful laugh, and he was looking at her like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Parker . . .”

“I know it now,” Parker said quickly, before he could say anything else, “There’s nothing like the love a mother has for her child, right? That’s what everything says. And this feeling I have for Baby, I _know_ that it’s love, I don’t have to wonder or doubt it, I _know_. And if that’s what love feels like, then,” she hesitated, “then I know that what I’ve felt for you for so long, it’s love too. It’s different than what I feel for Baby, of course, but it’s just as strong, and just as real, and it makes my insides do the same things. I thought—I thought I loved you before, but I couldn’t be sure, because I had no objective example of what love feels like, you know, but now I do, so now I know, so . . .” she trailed off, and waited for Hardison to speak.

She’d barely looked at him the entire time she’d been speaking, but now she did and she saw that he had tears running down his cheeks. She gently moved Baby to one arm so she could reach out and wipe the tears from his face.

Hardison leaned into her touch, and nodded. “I love you too, Parker. So much. You and—and Baby.”

Parker smiled, feeling tears in her own eyes, and looked down at Baby again. “I guess we don’t have to call her Baby anymore, huh?”

“No, I don’t guess we do,” Hardison leaned down and pressed a kiss on his daughter’s little forehead, “Hello,” he whispered, “Welcome to the world, Natasha.”

 

~o0o~

 

True to their word, the nurses returned for Natasha, ready to take her to the nursery to finish up her tests, shots, and make sure she can regulate her own body temperature before giving her a bath. They said that it could take an hour, maybe longer, and Parker and Hardison were sad to see her go. She hadn’t been gone too long before there was a knock on the door.

A nurse poked her head in, and Hardison and Parker had a brief moment of panic thinking that something was wrong with Natasha, but the nurse was smiling. “Your brother and friends are asking about you. Should I let them in, or . . ?”

“Oh,” Parker smiled, “Yeah, of course they can come in.”

The nurse nodded, and left.

A few minutes later, Eliot, Sophie, and Nate were filing into the room, and Parker and Hardison welcomed the distraction.

“Hey, how you doing?” Eliot asked, tweaking Parker’s toes. “The nurses said you did a great job.”

Parker smiled broadly at him.

Hardison stood to greet them, giving them each a hug.

Sophie looked around the room when Hardison let her go and made a disappointed sound, “No Baby?”

“Sorry,” Hardison said, “They had to take h—”

“Baby!” Parker broke in, reaching over and grabbing Hardison’s hand, pulling him back around beside her, “They had to take Baby to the nursery to do a few tests and make sure everything is okay.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed, “Really? You’re still going to keep Baby’s gender a secret? I guess that means we can’t know the name yet, either?”

Hardison shot Parker a look, “Yeah, babe, are we still keeping them secret?”

Parker looked down at her lap, and then gestured for Hardison to lean closer so she could whisper in his ear. He did, giving Sophie, Nate, and Eliot an apologetic look.

“I don’t want them to know until they meet her,” Parker whispered, “That way, if they hate the name, it’ll be okay because they’ll be looking at how cute she is.”

Hardison took a deep breath, and nodded, recognizing more advice from those stupid articles he’d asked her to read. (He was starting to think those things were more trouble than they were worth). “Okay. But we can at least tell them she’s a girl, right?”

Parker hesitated, and then nodded.

Hardison stood back up, facing the other three. “Parker would like to keep the name a secret until you get to meet Baby yourself. But we can tell you that we have a beautiful daughter.”

Eliot broke into a grin, and Sophie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“A girl!” she nudged Nate and Eliot on the arm, “You boys owe me twenty dollars.”

“You made bets on my baby’s gender?” Hardison asked, raising his eyebrows, but they all recognized his fake-offended voice.

“So, when can we meet her?” Nate asked, absentmindedly reaching out and pulling Sophie against his side. “How long will she be in the nursery?”

“Yes!” Sophie said, “I don’t like being kept in suspense, I want to know this mystery name. And meet her, of course.”

Hardison glanced at the clock, “Well, they said it could be a while, probably an hour.”

“Visitor hours are over in about twenty minutes,” Nate said.

“Well that just sucks, doesn’t it?” Sophie pouted, “We don’t even get to meet her today.”

“Come on now, Sophie,” Nate nudged her, “What’s one more day?”

“Hey, uh,” Hardison stepped forward, suddenly serious, and his team picked up on it, turning to give him their full attention, “I just wanted to thank you for everything you did, everything you’ve done, to help out me and Parker, with the baby, but also just all the times when you helped the two of us figure this thing out. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you—I literally wouldn’t be standing here without Eliot, Parker wouldn’t have gotten here safely without Sophie, and the job wouldn’t have been finished without Nate—” he stopped, “You did finish the job?”

Nate smirked and nodded, “Yeah. Mr. Jenson won’t be bothering anybody else.”

Hardison nodded, “Good. And it means a lot, man, that you came here and waited. We know how you feel about hospitals, and we wouldn’t have been offended if you’d waited at home.”

Nate shrugged, “I don’t like hospitals, that’s true, they make me think of my son’s last—his last days. But the maternity ward? That makes me think of his first, and that’s a much better memory.”

Hardison looked Nate in the eyes, finally understanding a little bit of the weight he carried with him everywhere. Now that Hardison had seen Natasha, even though he’d only known her a few hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose her.

Sophie smiled, and rubbed Nate’s back, breaking the comfortable silence, “Well, just because we can’t meet Baby yet doesn’t mean we have to go, unless you’d rather get some rest?”

They all turned to Parker, even Hardison, leaving it up to her.

“I think I’d like the company,” she said, “At least for a little bit longer.”

Sophie pulled up a chair on the side of the bed opposite Hardison, “So, tell us all about her! How amazing is she?”

Nate stood over Sophie’s shoulder, resting his hand lightly on her chair and Eliot leaned against the wall in the corner, both of them watching Hardison—with Parker’s occasional interjections—describe every one of Baby’s features from her fluffs of dark hair to her curled up little toes. Eliot had never seen anyone so enamored with anything in his whole life. Nate had, he’d been there, but as he stood there he refused to let those memories of the end through, instead focusing on the joy on Parker’s face, the slight quiver that remained in Hardison’s voice, drinking it all in, adding new memories of this new beginning.

He’d never felt luckier to have this family.

 

~o0o~

 

Eventually, visitor hours ended and the nurses kicked Nate, Sophie, and Eliot out. It wasn’t too much longer after that before the nurses were wheeling Natasha back in the room, though it’d seemed like an eternity to the new parents. Assuming nothing went drastically wrong overnight, Parker and Natasha were being discharged the next day. They were meeting Nate, Sophie, and Eliot at the brew pub to introduce them to Natasha that afternoon.

Natasha was spending the night in the room with them instead of the nursery since Parker was breastfeeding (and also because they didn’t want Natasha out of their sight).

Parker fed Natasha first thing after they brought her back, and fell asleep soon after. Hardison didn’t blame her. From what he’d seen today, he wouldn’t be surprised if Parker slept for a straight week, but of course that couldn’t happen, since Natasha woke them up a few hours later.

Parker sat up, rubbing her eyes, “Is she hungry again?”

Hardison lifted Natasha out of the hospital issued crib, still marveling at what it was like to hold his daughter in his arms, and carried her over to where Parker was waiting. Parker got Natasha settled, and then leaned back against the pillows, yawning.

“How you doing, mama?” Hardison asked, reaching over and caressing her face.

“I’m good,” Parker smiled softly, “Just tired.”

“How’s the pain?” Hardison asked, running his hand down her arm to grab her hand, careful not to disturb Natasha.

“Manageable,” Parker said, which was all she would say any time anyone asked her.

Hardison nodded, but he must not have looked convinced, because Parker rolled her eyes.

“I’d tell you if it wasn’t, Hardison,” she said, gripping his hand.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Hardison said, leaning closer to the bed.

Parker smiled, “You’re not so bad, yourself.”

Hardison shrugged and shook his head, “What did I do? Just cut the cord and almost forgot to tell you she’s a girl. That’s nothing compared to what you did today, babe.”

“You did more than that,” Parker said seriously, “You were here. You were here for me and Natasha. You love us. I was terrified, Alec. I was so afraid of doing this on my own. Sophie was here, of course, but it wasn’t hard to tell that she _really_ did not want to be around when things started getting messy. But you got here, and you held my hand,” Parker rubbed her fingers along the hand that was in hers now. “You made me feel like I could do it.” She smiled, and there was a small silence when Hardison just looked at her, and then—

“Marry me.”

Parker froze.

Hardison looked surprised, like the words had come out of his mouth on their own, but then he nodded a little and took a deep breath, “Marry me, Parker, please?” He paused and chuckled, looking down, “Sorry, I know I better ‘say the thing,’ huh?” He would have gotten down on one knee, but Parker showed no indication of letting go of his hand, so he settled for just leaning over the side of her hospital bed and cupping her face with his free hand, since he didn’t have a ring to present her with anyway, and said, “Parker, will you marry me?”

Parker broke into a grin, and Hardison felt his heart relax. “Yes,” she said, “Of course I will.”

Hardison smiled broadly, “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring for you, I honestly didn’t plan on doing this like this, I was going to wait until Natasha was a little older, but If you want, in a few weeks when you’re feeling better, I’ll take you to any jewelry store in the world, and you can steal any ring you want, since you said stolen is more romantic anyway, and—”

“It doesn’t matter that much, Hardison,” Parker cut him off, amused by his ramblings. “I’m not marrying you for a ring, I’m marrying you because I want to marry you.”

Hardison didn’t try to hide the dopey look on his face. They sat in silence, just content to smile at each other, until Natasha began to cry softly.

“I got her,” Hardison said, and Parker was more than willing to let him take Natasha from her and try to soothe her. After several minutes under his careful ministrations, Natasha was sleeping peacefully again. Hardison put her in the crib and returned to Parker’s side.

“Nana will be happy,” Parker mumbled as Hardison sat down. She was so exhausted, but she desperately wanted to stay awake.

“About Natasha, or the wedding?”

“Both,” Parker rolled her head along the pillows to the side to look at him.

“Sophie is going to have a field day,” Hardison added, also beginning to feel the pull of slumber.

“Yeah,” Parker’s voice was getting smaller, “Maybe Nate can be the one to marry us.”

“I bet he’d like that,” Hardison yawed loudly, only realizing halfway through that he might wake up Natasha.

“Hardison?” Parker said, sounding like she was using the last of her energy on the words, “I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”


	8. The First Day Home Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker and Hardison bring Natasha home to meet the team and try to figure out how to be parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So, this chapter was kind of rough to write, but I decided to go ahead and post it, so I hope you like it. I hope the name stuff isn't too much, since I'm a huge name nerd (I love names! That's where the idea for this story came from; I was just trying to figure out what Parker and Hardison would name their kid) and I could talk about names all day. Also, fair warning, there's an unexpected amount of breastfeeding in this chapter, since I was running out of things for Natasha to do, since newborns don't do much but eat, sleep, and poop. I tried to stay tactful with it, though. Anyway, enjoy, and again, I know nothing about babies, so if there's anything wrong in here, I'm really sorry.

Hardison looked down at the birth certificate in his hand. He still couldn’t quite believe it, but there it was. His daughter’s birth certificate. The spaces for the mother’s and father’s names weren’t right, filled with their long-term aliases, Alice Parker and Alexander Hardison. He’d taken the risk of making them so similar to the truth simply because he knew that he’d never have the presence of mind to call Parker ‘Alice’ during every single doctor’s appointment, not to mention during the labor and birth. This way he wouldn’t have to worry about it. As for his own alias, he kept his real last name because he knew he’d want his child to have Hardison on her birth certificate, instead of something inspired by Star Trek or Doctor Who like his usual fake names. No, he wanted his kid to know, from day one, that she was _his._ And she was. The proof of who she belonged to was right there on the paper in his hand.

Natasha Eleanor Sophie Hardison.

It was quite a name. Especially for such a little baby. (Parker said that the number of names doesn’t matter, she only has one, and that’s never hurt her, so why should having four hurt Tasha?)

He’d spent so much time on baby naming sites, charting, plotting, categorizing names that had nice meanings, names that referred to his or Parker’s favorite things (or characters), names that honored family. He’d done all that and narrowed down his lists only to have Parker look over his shoulder as she passed by his desk one day and point right at Natasha.

“That one,” she’d said.

Hardison had initially balked at the idea of her seemingly nonchalant and (dare he say it) _random_ pick, but the more he’d considered Natasha, the more he realized that it was perfect. It fit into each of his categories, which Parker no doubt noticed before she pointed it out.

Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow, was a Marvel superhero, giving the name some geek cred which worked for Hardison. Black Widow also happened to be Parker’s favorite Avenger. (“Because she’s a grifter and a hitter and a bit of a mastermind too, plus she can do thief stuff!” Parker had explained when he’d asked why. He’d countered that that was called being a spy and that’s what spies do, but, of course, a rose by any other name and all that).

Natasha, while working as an obvious honor name for Nathan, does not come from the same group of names, and therefore has a completely different meaning. Nathan and brother name Nathaniel (along with their derivative nickname Nate) are Hebrew and mean ‘given’ or ‘gift of God.’ Natasha and sister names Natalya, Natalia, and Natalie are Russian and mean ‘Christmas.’ That puts Natasha on the list of names that have nice meanings _and_ on the list with things that Parker likes, since it’s no secret that Christmas is Parker’s favorite time of the year.

But, really, the deciding factor was that Natasha honored their friend. Nate has done so much for them over the years and it seemed right that they name their daughter after him. Of course, they wouldn’t want to leave Eliot and Sophie out, since they mean as much to Parker and Hardison as Nate does. That’s where the middle names Eleanor and Sophie come in. They’d considered using Sophie’s real name, but Sophie is the name that they call her and the name that Tasha would know her by, plus they were still kind of fuzzy on whether Nate knows Sophie’s real name, so they figured they’d play it safe and stick with Sophie. As for Eleanor, it shares the same beginning as Eliot and, while there are those that don’t mind the name Eliot (or alternative spellings like Elliotte) on girls, Hardison preferred the classic Eleanor.

Despite all the thought that went into the name choice, it wasn’t hard to tell that Parker was nervous about the rest of the team finding out what they’d chosen.

Parker slipped up beside Hardison in the hospital lobby, knocking him from his thoughts. She was holding Natasha. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Hardison smiled broadly, and gently took the bag from over Parker’s shoulder to make carrying Natasha easier for her.

They were in the harsh afternoon sun of the parking lot and buckling Natasha into her car seat in no time. Parker slid into the backseat next to her and Hardison got behind the wheel. They spent the first few minutes of the drive in silence. Parker watched Natasha, who was sleeping peacefully. Hardison drove and stole glances at the girls in the backseat every chance he got.

It didn’t take long to notice that Parker was spending an inordinate amount of time adjusting Natasha’s personalized onesie. Parker had surprised him with it soon after they’d picked Tasha’s name (and the name that would have been hers if she’d been male), coming home with two little onesies, one pink and one blue, with the first and middle name picks embroidered on the front.

Hardison had smiled the whole time he’d dressed Natasha in it this morning. There it was. _Natasha Eleanor Sophie_ , written in bold purple thread. He knew that that’s what Parker was currently staring at.

“Something wrong, babe?” Hardison asked mildly at a red light, watching her in the review mirror.

Parker shrugged, “What if they don’t like it?”

“Parker,” Hardison chuckled, “She’s named after _them_. Why wouldn’t they like it?”

Parker shrugged again, and fell silent.

They pulled up in front of the brew pub and Hardison hopped out to open the car door for Parker. “How are you doing, mama?” he asked, resting the briefest of touches on her back as she walked passed him go around the car and get Natasha.

“I’m fine,” she said, but she didn’t sound very convincing, so Hardison waited for her to pull her head out of the car to give her a skeptical look. She rolled her eyes at him, holding Natasha close to her chest (thank goodness that fear hadn’t lasted very long! Hardison wasn’t sure what he would have done if Parker had refused to hold Tasha). “Really, Hardison. I’m fine. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get inside and off my feet.”

Hardison wisely chose not to respond to that, instead grabbing their bags out of the trunk and following Parker inside.

He caught up to her before she made it to the door, and held it open for her, shifting the bags to one arm. “Did they close the brew pub for us?” he wondered aloud, but it was pretty obvious that the brew pub wasn’t open.

Parker shrugged.

“There they are!” Sophie jumped up from her barstool where she’d been waiting with Eliot and Nate and started to go bounding across the room towards them, but Nate grabbed her hand to keep her from crowding the new parents and the newborn.

“Hey, guys,” Parker smiled, but Hardison noticed that her grip on Natasha tightened just a bit.

Sophie waved them over excitedly.

Eliot took the bags from Hardison, “Why don’t we take this into the back rooms so Parker can sit down?” he suggested.

“Sitting would be great,” Parker said, smiling gratefully. They followed her into the back rooms where she settled herself and Natasha in her masterminding chair. The rest of them arranged themselves around her.

“So?” Sophie asked, looking from Parker to Hardison to the baby. “What’s her name?”

No one responded for a moment, and Sophie noticed that Nate was staring at the baby’s onesie with an odd look on his face. She followed his gaze.

“Oh,” Sophie said, feeling her heart beat a little faster in her chest, “Oh, that’s perfect.”

Parker and Hardison were looking expectantly at Nate, since he’d yet to say anything at all.

Nate cleared his throat, shook his head like he was breaking out of a spell, “Can—can I hold her?”

Parker blinked, surprised, but smiled, “Of course.”

Nate carefully took Natasha from Parker, smiling down at the itty-bitty person in his arms. Sophie immediately attached herself to his side, gazing down at Natasha like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

“I guess you never really forget how to hold a baby, do you?” Nate chuckled softly.

“Like riding a bike,” Hardison agreed, smiling. He’d perched on the armrest of Parker’s chair, half sitting and half standing, and he put his arm around his fiancée as they watched their daughter and her namesake(s).

Eliot stood across from Nate and Sophie, arms crossed over his chest, staring at Natasha like he was afraid to get too close.

Parker noticed. “The Eleanor’s for you,” she told him.

A little piece of Eliot’s façade broke, and he cracked a bit of a smile. The others didn’t know it, but he was acting so stoic because he didn’t want them to see how touched he really was. Then again, Parker could probably tell, since she reached around Hardison and grabbed Eliot’s hand, giving it a little squeeze.

Eliot wiped at his face and no, those couldn’t be tears, because Eliot Spencer doesn’t cry, so of course they weren’t tears.  It’s just that there’s a very distinctive type of allergen that affects him sometimes, makes his eyes water, that’s all.

Sophie had convinced Nate to let her hold Natasha, after a quick glance to Parker and Hardison to make sure it was okay. She bounced the little girl up and down gently, and it was almost like she forgot the rest of them were in the room. “Hello, Natasha,” she said, grinning when Natasha opened her eyes and looked up at her, “Hey, there, little one. I’m your Aunt Sophie. And don’t you worry, because I’m going to make sure we retain some girl power around here. You’re gonna help me with that aren’t you? Yeah, help me put these silly boys in their place,” she looked up at Nate and smirked. “We just have to show them who’s boss, that’s all.”

Hardison chuckled, “Come on now, Soph, she’s not even a week old, and you’ve already got her on some kind of feminist agenda.”

“It’s not an ‘agenda,’” Sophie scoffed, “I’m simply saying that it’s about time that the scales are balanced, and the male to female ratio is where it should be.”

Eliot rolled his eyes, but even he was smiling.

It was at that point that baby Natasha began to wail. Sophie froze, staring wide eyed at Natasha’s screwed up little face as the baby made some of the most horrific noises that Sophie had ever heard.

“I got her,” Hardison held back a laugh at Sophie’s expression and took Tasha from her. “She doesn’t stink, so she’s probably hungry.” He handed her to Parker, and started to ask if she wanted to go upstairs to feed her, but Parker had already lost no time in adjusting her clothing and getting Natasha settled in to eat.

Nate, Sophie, and Eliot respectfully averted their eyes, but this was far from the first time that Parker had nearly or completely exposed herself to them. Besides, once Natasha was eating, there wasn’t much visible anyway.

“So,” Sophie said after several seconds of silence, “I’m assuming her last name is Hardison?”

“Yeah, she—” Hardison began, but Parker cut him off.

“And mine is going to be too!” she said, “So it doesn’t matter that my name isn’t in there anywhere, because soon I’ll have Hardison’s and Natasha won’t even remember a time when I didn’t.”

Everyone froze and stared at Parker for a beat, trying to riddle out what she meant by that.

“You’re getting married?” Sophie asked, looking from Hardison to Parker, trying not to appear hopeful in case all Parker meant was a name change.

“Yeah,” Hardison was also recovering from Parker’s delivery of the news, not really surprised that she’d choose that moment and method to tell them, but still a little taken aback, “Yeah, I asked her to marry me.”

“Before you ask, I don’t have a ring yet, but he’s going to let me steal one,” Parker said excitedly.

Sophie clapped her hands together excitedly, “That’s amazing!  Congratulations!”

“Yeah, man, I’m really happy for you,” Eliot said, thumping Hardison on the back, “For both of you,” he added, shooting Parker a look.

Nate nodded, “Yeah, congrats, guys. That’s great.”

Natasha finished eating a few minutes later, and Parker burped her while Sophie watched, fascinated.

“Hey, Hardison,” Parker said when she was done, “I think Tasha wants to sleep. Where are the swaddling blankets?”

 “Oh, they’re upstairs,” Hardison said, standing up, “I’ll go grab one.”

“Why don’t I come with you?” Parker handed Natasha to Hardison and let Eliot help her stand up. “Actually, I really could use a shower, do you mind . . .?”

“Of course not!” Sophie smiled, “Go shower, of course. Do what you need to do. We’ll be around if you need anything, right guys?”

Nate and Eliot agreed.

Parker smiled gratefully at them and headed up the stairs.

“I’m going to go,” Hardison gestured to Tasha, “Take care of her, but, thanks again for everything and, depending on how this goes, I may or may not be back down in a bit.” He followed Parker.

Nate, Sophie, and Eliot watched them go.

“You know,” Eliot said after a minute, “I thought they’d name her Leia or Uhura or Arwen or something.”

Sophie chuckled, but Nate shook his head.

“No,” he said, “No, of course they’d name her after family.”

 

~o0o~

 

Hardison got Natasha settled down in her crib for a nap relatively easily. (Newborns really can sleep through anything.)

He stood over her crib and watched her for a while, knowing that there were probably so many things that needed to be done, but one glance at his sleeping daughter and all of that went out of his head. Honestly, everything that had happened since Parker announced over the coms that she was in labor was a blur, and this was the first quiet moment he’d gotten alone with Natasha since she’d been born. He was reaching down to gently stroke Natasha’s cute little cheeks when he heard Parker behind him.

“Hey,” she joined him next to the crib, “Does she need anything? Is she okay? I feel like she needs something.”

“She’s fine, mama,” Hardison said, wrapping his arms around Parker and pulling her to his chest. She let him, but he didn’t miss the fact that she kept her attention on the sleeping Natasha. “She’s asleep. You could too, you know,” he suggested, aware that she’d probably do exactly what she did, which was scoff at him and pull away from his embrace.

“I’m fine,” Parker said, sitting in the rocking chair.

“You sure?” Hardison raised his eyebrows at her, “You can rest, you know. And you’re allowed to shower for more than five minutes.”

“It was longer than five minutes,” Parker argued, but half-heartedly. “I was just afraid she needed me. You know, she didn’t eat for very long. Isn’t she supposed to eat more than that? She ate for a long time at the hospital. What if something’s wrong?”

“Parker, Parker,” Hardison crouched next to her, grabbing her hands, “Babe, she’s fine. If she was hungry she’d let us know. She’ll probably just eat more next time.”

“Yeah, but—” Parker started, but stopped when she saw Hardison’s look. She sighed, “I just want to make sure we do this right.”

“I know, babe, trust me, I know. I feel the same way,” Hardison squeezed her hands, “But you have to take care of you too. You keep shrugging it off like it’s nothing, but you _need_ to rest.”

Parker glared mutinously at him for a second, but then nodded. “Fine.”

Hardison smiled, “I’ll take care of Tasha, okay? And, don’t worry, I’ll wake you up when she’s hungry.”

“Okay,” Parker started to leave the room, but stopped and turned to give Hardison a quick kiss, “Thanks.”

Hardison stayed in the nursery, busying himself with organizing the drawers of diapers and wipes and reading the instruction manuals for the various baby carriers, slings, and wraps that Parker had insisted on buying (“Look! Baby can have harnesses just like mine!”). He felt a little silly hanging around in the nursery with nothing to do, just waiting for Natasha to wake up and need something, but he didn’t really feel comfortable leaving her, even with the high-tech baby monitor he’d designed.

He passed a couple of hours this way, but eventually, nature called and he had to pee. There was no way he was gone from the room for more than a few minutes, but apparently that was long enough.

Hardison was exiting the bathroom and on his way towards the nursery when he saw Parker bearing down on him, a terrible angry look in her eyes and Natasha swaddled and asleep in her arms.

“Hardison!” Parker whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake Natasha (which Hardison was 85% sure wouldn’t happen, since he’d made a racket messing around in the nursery for hours and she hadn’t done a thing).

“Yeah?” Hardison knew he was in trouble, but he had no idea how to get out of it.

“Why did I find Tasha all alone, huh?” Parker demanded, the glint in her eyes getting stronger. (Note to self: sleep deprivation and hormones make Parker a whole heck of a lot scarier.)

“I, you know,” Hardison gestured to the open bathroom door behind him, “I had to use the restroom. I was headed straight back to the nursery, but honestly, I’m not sure I needed to be in there. She was sleeping fine . . .” he realized what he’d said at the same moment Parker did, so he just stopped speaking and waited for what he knew was coming.

“You don’t think she needs you?” Parker had stopped trying to whisper-yell and was instead just plain yelling. “She’s two days old! She’s basically helpless, and you don’t think she needs you?”

Hardison pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “Parker, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant that she was _sleeping_ and I had to _pee_. What was I supposed to do? Take her to bathroom with me?” Hardison raised his voice unintentionally, getting caught up in the argument.

Natasha woke up and began to cry. Parker gave Hardison the death-glare to end all death-glares.

“Seriously?” Hardison threw his hands up in the air, “Seriously, girl, you sleep through all kinds of stuff and you wake up now when I’m already in trouble.”

“Don’t blame her!” Parker clutched Natasha closer to her chest, “It’s not her fault you yelled at me.”

“You were yelling at me first!” Hardison exclaimed. If he’d taken a minute to think about what he was saying, he would have realized that the two of them sounded a lot like children themselves, but the exhaustion and stress that had been building for two long days were taking their toll, so neither of them really considered their words.

“So?” Parker squinted at him, “ _I’m_ not the one that woke the baby.” She turned on her heel and stormed off towards the bedroom.

“Babe,” Hardison recovered enough of his sense to yell after her in case she needed him, “Where are you going?”

“To feed her!”

The bedroom door slammed.

Hardison sighed and leaned against the wall, rubbing his face. Before he could figure out whether or not to go after Parker, his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mr. Daddy, how’s it going?” Sophie asked, but she sounded like she knew the answer.

“You heard, then?” Hardison shook his head. Of course they’d heard, they were all right downstairs.

“Yep,” Sophie sounded sympathetic, “You know you’ve got all three of us down here if you need help. Use us.”

“Yeah,” Hardison kicked at the wall, “Yeah, I probably should have asked one of you to come sit with Tasha while I went to the bathroom, if only to keep Parker calm.”

“I wouldn’t worry all that much,” Sophie said, “She’s just worried and tired. I doubt she’ll stay mad at you.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Well, is there anything I can get you?” Sophie asked, “Eliot has been cooking up a storm, making casseroles and things that you can reheat later, you know, easy stuff, so if you’re hungry, I’m sure he can—”

“There wouldn’t happen to be any coffee anywhere, would there?” Hardison broke in, “Because I could really use some caffeine.”

Sophie chuckled, “I had a feeling that might be the case, so I threw a pot on earlier. Come on down.”

“You’re the best, Soph,” Hardison said, and hung up the phone.

A few minutes later found him in the brew pub kitchen, sipping on the coffee that Sophie handed him. Eliot was indeed cooking various reheatable dishes, glaring at the two of them like he resented their presence in his kitchen. Sophie and Hardison ignored him.

“It’s not anything like I thought it would be,” Hardison said, staring down into his coffee cup. “I thought it’d be crazy, you know? And in some ways, it is, because Tasha’s here and she needs us, and nothing is ever going to be the same again, it’s never going to be just me and Parker again, but it doesn’t quite feel _that_ momentous, you know?” He shook his head, “It certainly hasn’t been full of frantic running around trying to keep up. She just spent the last three hours sleeping and she didn’t need either of us to do anything but leave her alone. It was almost like she wasn’t even there.”

“Maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way, Hardison,” Sophie said, patting his arm, “Of course you need to be focusing on what Tasha needs, because she needs help with everything right now, but you and Parker have needs too. And that includes going to the bathroom, so unless you want to try and squeeze into Tasha’s newborn diapers, it’s okay to take a potty break. And, just because she slept for three hours now doesn’t mean that’ll happen again anytime soon,” Sophie chuckled, “I may not know a lot about parenting, but even I know that you don’t take good sleeping time for granted.”

Hardison smiled, nodding, “You’re right, like always.”

“Like I said earlier, Parker will come around,” Sophie put her coffee mug down on the counter behind her. “And if you need any advice or help from someone who knows a thing or two about newborns, I really think that Nate would be up for it. It’s no secret that it’s a sensitive subject for him, but I do think he wants to help, if he can. Besides, naming her after him did a lot to butter him up.”

Hardison nodded, “Thanks, Sophie.” He put his empty mug in the sink. “I better get back up there, in case Parker needs me.”

“Of course,” Sophie touched his arm, gave him one final smile, and left the kitchen.

Hardison was on his way out when he heard Eliot behind him.

“You know,” the hitter said over Hardison’s shoulder, making him whirl around, “There’s some chocolate in the fridge.” Hardison just looked at him, so Eliot rolled his eyes, “For Parker! To, you know, smooth things over.” Eliot disappeared into the bowels of the kitchen, grumbling about why does he even try to help the two of them in the first place because it’s always more trouble than it’s worth.

“Thanks, man!” Hardison called after him, and opened up the fridge for the chocolate.

 

~o0o~

 

Hardison knocked hesitantly on the bedroom door, not wanting sure how welcome he was. There was no answer, so he slowly opened the door and slid inside. Parker was stretched out on her side on the bed, Natasha nestled in the pillows in front of her, eating steadily.

“She’s still eating,” Parker said as a greeting, not looking up at him. “So, I guess it was fine that she didn’t eat for very long before.”

Hardison approached the bed, “I’m glad she’s eating.”

“Yeah,” Parker finally looked up from Natasha and smiled at Hardison.

“Oh,” Hardison remembered the chocolate in his hand, “I brought you some chocolate. Eliot had it in the fridge, there’s no telling how long it’s been in there, but—”

“Eliot bought it over the weekend,” Parker broke in, taking the chocolate from him, “He kept the fridge stocked with it during the whole pregnancy.”

“What?” Hardison frowned, “How did I not know this?”

Parker shrugged as well as she could while lying on her side and feeding an infant. “He’d buy a few chocolate bars and stick them in the fridge and pretend not to notice when I ate them. He always got more when it ran out, though.”

“Oh,” Hardison carefully sat on the edge of the bed, “Okay, then.”

“Hardison,” Parker started, but Hardison cut her off.

“Wait, I’ve got something I’d like to say,” he said, clearing his throat, “And you might not like it, so I’m going to say it now before you try to apologize because you might just end up yelling at me again.”

“How’d you know I was about to apologize?” Parker asked. Hardison gave her a ‘Come one, seriously?’ look, and she chuckled, “Fine, what is it that you want to say?”

Hardison sighed, and laced his fingers together in his lap, “You have to stop acting like you’re fine, Parker.”

Parker opened her mouth to protest, but Hardison stopped her with a look.

“You’re not fine, babe, and no one expects you to be,” Hardison shook his head, “Parker, you spent the last nine months _making_ a little human being. And then you had to deliver her, and honestly, babe, you know I love you, but some of that looked pretty terrible. So, no one expects you to bounce back immediately,” Hardison looked down at his hands and then back up at Parker, “You keep getting frustrated because you don’t feel the way you think you should, both physically and emotionally, but, you gotta stop that. I’m worried about you.”

Parker bit her lip, but Natasha finished eating before she could say anything. Parker sat up as Natasha hiccupped and began to cry.

“I got her,” Hardison nabbed Natasha off the pillows before she could spit up, grabbing a cloth and burping her there in his lap.

Parker sat up slowly, using the distraction to try and figure out her emotions, rearranging the pillows until she’d made a nest around herself.

Hardison waited until she was ready to speak, keeping busy with Natasha and giving Parker some space.

“I’m supposed to be able to do things,” Parker said finally, and Hardison glanced up from Natasha to meet her eyes. “I used to be able to do all kinds of things,” Parker twiddled her fingers in her lap, and watched them instead of Hardison, “But then, I couldn’t do them, because I was pregnant. And—and that was fine, but I’m not pregnant anymore, and I want—I thought—” she looked up, knocking her hair out of her eyes, and Hardison saw that she was blinking back tears. “And, also, I feel bad,” she went on, like she hadn’t already been in the middle of a sentence, “because I have all this stuff that I want to do, but I shouldn’t, you know, because Tasha needs me—us, she needs us, and I thought that once she was born, I could go back to stealing and conning and everything, but I don’t . . .” she seemed unable to finish the thought.

“But you don’t want to put yourself at risk now that you’ve got someone depending on you,” Hardison said, cradling Natasha in his arms, watching her scrunched up little newborn face, her bowlegged limbs, her patches of dark hair. She was amazing, but she was a huge responsibility.

Parker didn’t explicitly agree that that was what she was feeling, only said, “I _want_ to do all the things I used to, but I don’t think I should. I feel bad even for wanting to.”

Hardison shifted Natasha to one arm, and reached out to touch Parker’s face, making her meet his eyes. He smiled at her, “Part of that is probably hormones,” he said, and Parker started to get annoyed at him for invalidating her feelings, but he continued before she could berate him, “But it’s also a thing that every parent has to deal with, to an extent.”

Parker sighed loudly, “Yeah, I guess.”

“No one is going to think any less of you either way, mama, no one that matters,” Hardison nudged her foot that was next to him on the bed. “Neither is Natasha, you’re her mom regardless.”

Parker smiled a little, and unwrapped the chocolate bar. “That still sounds weird, doesn’t it?” she asked, a little bit of a sparkle returning to her eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Hardison agreed, laughing, “Sophie called me ‘Mr. Daddy’ and I would have sworn she had the wrong number.”

Parker took a large bite of the chocolate, “I am sorry that I yelled at you earlier. I just—” she swallowed and sighed. “I keep thinking about the people that raised me, and about all the things I refuse to let Tasha experience, and,” she shrugged, “I overreacted a little bit.”

“Don’t worry about it, mama,” Hardison said easily, “I understand.”

Parker took a much smaller bite of the chocolate. “I’m starving,” she said after a minute.

“Eliot’s been cooking,” Hardison said, “And I’m pretty sure Sophie and Nate are still hanging around, so we can all eat . . .” he trailed off as they both registered the terrible smell filling the room.

“Not it!” Parker said quickly, and scampered out of her pillow nest way faster than should be possible for a woman who gave birth two days ago. She was gone before Hardison could react, leaving him with a none-too-happy Natasha.

“Great,” Hardison muttered, trying not to hold Natasha at arm’s length as he carried her to the changing table in the nursery. “What happened to alternating diaper duty? I wonder if Eliot taught her my rock-paper-scissors tell.”


	9. The Natasha's Big Day Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Parker and Hardison's wedding day! But, before they can say their vows, baby Natasha has an adventure that just might derail everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Quicker update this time, since this chapter was so much fun it just flew out. This is the first of two chapters about Parker and Hardison's wedding. Basically, I had two different ideas for how the wedding chapter could go, one full of sweet P/H moments and your typical fluffy wedding stuff, and the other one about a huge misunderstanding involving Natasha. I decided to write them both! I'm trying to make this like Girl's Night Out/Boy's Night Out, where things that are in the background of this chapter are going to be explained in the next chapter and vice versa. Hopefully the next chapter will fit right into this one, and will end with the actual ceromony. (I know there's not really any P/H in this chapter, but bear with me, it's coming in the next one!)  
> This chapter was so much fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it!

It was a nice church, in a little town not too far from Portland. Old enough that it had ‘rustic charm’ (Sophie’s words) but well-kept enough that it felt fresh and airy, perfect for a small ceremony.

They just had to steal it first.

Parker thought that that stealing it was almost the most fun part of the day. Almost.

She’d really missed this, being out with the team, slipping through bushes and ducking under stained glass windows, pickpocketing a priest out of his church keys and watching Sophie send him on his way to where urgent baptismal needs awaited.

The whole thing was made even trickier by the rule that Parker and Hardison couldn’t see each other. Parker and Natasha, now a healthy six-month-old, had spent the night at Nate and Sophie’s for the bachelorette ‘party.’ It’d mainly consisted of party games devised by Sophie and several invigorating rounds of peekaboo with Natasha, who appeared to enjoy her bedroom at her aunt and uncle’s.

They met Hardison, Eliot, and Nate at the church the next morning, and though Parker never saw him, she could tell that Hardison was slightly worse for the wear after his much more adult bachelor’s night out with Eliot.

Nate was leading this ‘job’ to steal the church. He’d insisted that Parker didn’t need to mastermind her own wedding, and for once Parker was happy to give up the reins, since she was juggling caring for Natasha, being a bride, and doing her own little parts to secure the building.

Stealing the church wasn’t technically necessary, especially since Alec Hardison and Parker-the-thief couldn’t have a legal marriage, what with the being wanted criminals and all. However, Alexander Hardison and Alice Parker could, and that was good enough for the two of them. Again, since it was their aliases getting married, they could have gone the legal way with a ceremony where the priest wasn’t 50 miles away searching for a baby in desperate need of a baptism, but stealing the church was much more fun, and it was much more them, plus it wasn’t a secret that Parker missed this stuff.

Not that she minded having to give up parts of the job to care for Natasha. She loved her daughter with a fierce intensity that surprised even Hardison sometimes. Parker wasn’t usually the most in tune with her feelings, but she sure understood emotions like get-the-hell-away-from-my-baby and make-her-cry-and-suffer-the-consequences and (delivered to Eliot at 2:30am after their first job since Tasha was born) I-don’t-care-if-you’re-the-best-hitter-in-the-world-if-you-wake-her-up-I’ll-rip-out-your-vocal-chords-and-feed-them-to-you.

As Hardison put it, Mama Bear Parker is a force to be reckoned with. He was beyond proud of Parker’s growth since she became a mother, and he was started to note a few changes in himself, too, even if some of them were just things like being so sleep deprived he hacked NASA instead of the NSA and screwed up a job because his numbers were about telescopes instead of terrorists.

Parker had forgiven him for that, and many other mistakes, because she made quite a few herself. In the half-year since Tasha’s birth, they’d not only grown as people and as parents, but also as a couple. Parker was opening up to Hardison like never before, and Hardison wasn’t trying to pretend he had everything under control or knew all the answers.

It was really a beautiful thing to watch.

The church was theirs in next to no time, and soon Parker was handing Natasha off to Sophie and donning her simple white dress. Sure, Parker and Hardison weren’t the most conventional of couples, but some things you just don’t mess with. Plus, several eyebrows would be raised (especially Nana’s) if she walked out there in anything else.

“You look lovely, Parker,” Sophie said, holding Natasha up so she could see her mother in the mirror, “Doesn’t she, Tash?”

Natasha made a gurgling sound, which Sophie apparently took as a yes.

“Okay,” Sophie took one last look around the room, “I think we might be all set.”

Parker smiled, feeling slightly nervous, which was absurd, since she felt completely comfortable with everyone who was going to be in attendance.

So why did her stomach feel so funny?

Parker decided that was a question to be pondered later.

“Um, we’re not quite finished,” Parker said, rooting around in her bag until she came up with a bright green sash.

“Oh, Parker, really?” Sophie didn’t bother to hide her disappointment as Parker tied the green piece of fabric around her waist.

“I like it,” Parker said, and that was that. Parker’s dress was exactly how she liked them, the skirt flowing enough so that she could move easily, the bodice tight enough that she didn’t look completely shapeless, and bright green around the middle because green makes her happy.

Green makes her even happier now than it did before. It represents something that Hardison figured out about her without her having to tell him. It represents their ‘team green’ baby, and the nursery where they now spend a huge chunk of their time. Most of Natasha’s clothes and blankets are green, and Hardison had inadvertently let the color leak into his wardrobe. Even the diamond on Parker’s purloined engagement ring was flanked by emeralds.

True to his word, when Natasha was about a month old, Hardison took Parker to a jewelry store and let her pick out her favorite ring. She’d picked the one with the emeralds because she liked it the best, and the fact that it was in the case with the most security was only an extra incentive to make the whole thing more fun. Parker had the ring out of the case and in her pocket in next to no time, because apparently one-month-old babies are perfect for framing, distracting the mark so they don’t see you stealing things from them. (Hardison reimbursed the jewelry store, and Parker pretended she didn’t know about it.)

“I’m going to check on the boys,” Sophie said, settling Natasha on her hip, “The priest was easier to convince than expected, so who even knows if all the guests are even here yet.”

“I’ll take Natasha—” Parker started, but Sophie shook her head.

“No, Parker, nuh-uh. Tasha’s coming with me. I told you, she’s my responsibility today, so you can focus on being a bride,” Sophie adjusted Natasha’s teensy baby bridesmaid outfit. “And the last thing we need is spit-up or drool or heaven knows what else on your dress!”

Parker sighed, but relented. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Sophie with Natasha, she just still became uncomfortable when Natasha wasn’t in her line of sight. “Fine.”

“Besides,” Sophie grinned, already halfway out the door, “We’re the Maids of Honor, we have to stick together.”

Parker hadn’t been able to decide when Hardison told her that her Maid of Honor should be ‘the most important girl in your life’ so she’d asked Sophie to share the duty with Natasha. Sophie had jumped on that idea, picking out matching Maid(s) of Honor dresses and letting Natasha ‘help’ with the usual Maid of Honor duties. Eliot, Hardison’s Best Man, found the whole thing a little weird, especially when Sophie choreographed a dance between the two of them and the baby for the reception, but he went along with it because it made everyone happy.

Sophie found Eliot and Hardison easily, in the room they’d claimed to change into their suits. She knocked, waited until she heard Hardison’s muffled greeting, and stuck her head around the door. “Hey, guys,” she came all the way in the room, Natasha still happy on her hip, “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Hardison said, but he looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Is something wrong?”

Sophie laughed, “No, nothing’s wrong. Parker just got ready faster than I expected, so we’ve got some time to kill,” she turned to the baby in her arms, “Isn’t that right, Tasha? Yeah, Mommy’s just really good at getting dressed in a hurry, huh?”

Eliot rolled his eyes at Sophie’s slip into borderline baby talk, but he stepped up and reached out for Natasha regardless. Sophie handed her over, raising an eyebrow at him, silently calling him out on his hypocrisy.

“I’m not—” Eliot started to defend himself, “You just have to hold her during the whole wedding, so I thought I’d give your arm a break, is all.”

Hardison snorted, “Course, that makes perfect sense.” It was no secret that Natasha had her Uncle Eliot wrapped around her finger.

Eliot glared at him, and took Tasha to the other side of the room, turning his back so the others couldn’t see him making faces at her to make her laugh.

“So, Parker’s fine, then?” Hardison asked Sophie, hands clasped behind his back.

Sophie smiled knowingly, “Nervous?”

Hardison shrugged, “No, you know, not about the being married part. Sometimes I think the ceremony I could do without.”

“You didn’t have to go in such a traditional direction,” Sophie pointed out, “Parker wouldn’t have minded either way.”

“I know,” Hardison shrugged again, “But she did get kind of excited when we decided to do this. A little slice of normal, I guess. Plus, this way we can invite more than just you guys. Nana would probably kill me if I got married without telling her.”

“Oh, yes, the infamous Nana,” Sophie clicked her tongue, “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Hardison’s eyes widened, “Yeah, you see, if I wasn’t nervous before, I’m pretty sure that the idea of you and Nate and Nana in the same room together would just about do it.”

Sophie laughed, “Where is Nate? Preparing for his role as wedding officiant?”

“Actually, I’m not sure,” Hardison turned to Eliot in the corner, “Hey, Eliot, where’d Nate say he was going?”

“Uh, empty Sunday school room, I think,” Eliot said, bringing Natasha back to where Sophie and Hardison were standing.

Sophie frowned, “Why would he go there?”

Eliot shrugged, “Since when does Nate explain himself? I mean, maybe that’s a perk of being married to the guy, but he doesn’t tell us anything.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, “Fair point.” She stuck her hands out for Natasha. “I’m going to go find him.”

Hardison watched Eliot hand his daughter to Sophie. “You know,” Hardison said, “I could take Natasha while you go look for Nate.”

“You and Parker,” Sophie shook her head, “I’m starting to think the two of you don’t trust me with her.”

“It’s not that,” Hardison said, and started to say more, but Sophie spoke over him.

“You know she’s staying with us tonight? You’re not going to freak out on your wedding night and come check up on her, are you? I’m sure that will ruin the mood,” Sophie put the hand that wasn’t holding Natasha on her hip. “Enjoy your day off from daddy duties.”

Hardison gave up, “Alright. Well, if I don’t see you before then, I guess I’ll see you walking down the aisle.”

Sophie smiled, “See you then.”

The hallway to the left led to the Sunday school rooms. The door to one of the rooms was wide open and light was spilling out into the dark hallway. “Nate?” Sophie called, stepping into the room. It was a nursery.

A mumble came from the closet, which Sophie assumed was Nate.

“What in the world are you looking for?” Sophie asked, taking a step towards the closet, but her phone rang, and the ringtone indicated that it was Parker. “Hang on,” Sophie said to the man in the closet, “Nate, hon, I’m going to leave Natasha right here in this crib while I go answer Parker’s phone call, watch her for me, please?” Her ringtone was reaching its crescendo, so she didn’t wait for an answer, taking her phone out into the hallway before answering. “Parker?”

“Sophie?” Parker sounded frantic, “Sophie, can you come here?”

“Of course, Parker,” Sophie pressed the phone closer to her ear, “Is everything okay?”

“Can you just come back?”

“Sure, Parker, let me just tell Nate to keep an eye on Tasha,” Sophie said.

“Okay. Just hurry!” Parker hung up.

Sophie stuck her head back in the door to the nursery, preoccupied with whatever could be making Parker so desperate. “Nate!”

A muffled, “What?” drifted out to her.

“Parker is having some kind of crisis, so I need you to watch Natasha. I’ll be back for her when I finish with Parker.”

Another noise came out of the closet (What was he doing in there? Sophie shook it off; she had bigger things to deal with) which Sophie took as an agreement. She headed off to help Parker.

 

~o0o~

 

Jack Hurley came out of the closet in the church’s nursery, “You know,” he said, “I don’t think this is where they want us to put our coats, after all.” He stopped, realizing he was alone in the nursery. “Peggy? Where’d you go?”

He would have sworn that he’d heard Peggy out here, that she’d said something about watching the pasta, which didn’t make any sense, but she was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged, and started to leave the room, when an angry shriek from one of the cribs made him just about come unglued.

Jack had been very excited when Peggy showed him the invitation to Rose’s wedding, addressed to them both. He really liked that he’d been included. He had a feeling that Hardison liked him a lot more than Nate or Eliot did, and he’d been through rehab with Rose, so he felt like that had created a special bond between them. (He knew that Peggy insisted that her name was actually Alice, and that Hardison and Nate and the others all called her ‘Parker’ for some reason, but she’d always be Rose to him, that poor kleptomaniac that just wanted her foster parents’ love.)

He’d insisted on arriving early, because things with Nate and his friends tended to lean towards the comically complicated, and he wanted to make sure nothing held them up. Peggy had been slightly annoyed at him because no one else was here yet, and insisted that he go find someone, anyone, if only to confirm that they were in the right place. That was how he’d wandered into the nursery, and then, remembering that Peggy had complained about her bulky coat was and that she’d have to carry it around with her all day, he’d slipped into the closet to see if she could store it in there during the ceremony.

He was certainly not prepared to come out of the closet and find a crying baby in the crib.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Jack asked the little girl when he recovered his senses. “Because I would have sworn that crib was empty when I came in . . .” he trailed off, since it was obvious that the baby couldn’t answer him. “Right, well, I guess I’ll just have to get you back to whoever you belong to.” He picked up the child, and she stopped crying as soon as she was in his arms, blinking at him curiously, and trying to reach for his face.

It didn’t occur to Jack that this might be Rose and Hardison’s baby, the one that Peggy had shown him pictures of a few months ago. He was aware that Rose and Hardison had a daughter, but the idea never sank down very deep in his consciousness, since his memory of the night he found out was overtaken by the discussion (or, argument, rather) he’d had with Peggy that night about having their own kids. Jack wasn’t sure who would have left the baby there, but he assumed that an overworked and in-need-of-Jesus mother had shown up for a bible study and forgotten to take one of her kids home with her. That happens on the news sometimes. Now, all he had to do was find the baby’s parents.

“Peggy sent me to find someone,” Jack said, leaving the nursery with the mystery baby, “I don’t think she meant someone as young as you, but I can’t just leave you there. I mean, what kind of person would leave a baby all alone?”

 

~o0o~

 

Sophie Devereaux closed the door to Parker’s dressing room behind her, pausing to lean against it, letting out a breath. Parker’s crisis was handled, and hopefully that would be the end of that. With the words, “I really appreciate everything you do for me, Sophie. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” echoing in her ears, Sophie started off to get Natasha from Nate.

She saw her husband in the foyer of the church and jogged to catch up to him. “Nate!”

“Oh, hey,” Nate stopped walking.

“Why were you in that closet?” Sophie asked, frowning, “And where’s Tasha? Did you give her to Hardison, because you know the two of them aren’t supposed to have to deal with her today.”

Nate looked confused, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do,” Sophie crossed her arms over her chest, “I was talking to you earlier. I left Natasha with you.”

“Talking to me earlier?” Nate repeated, “And I was in a closet? Sophie, that didn’t happen.”

Sophie squinted at him, about to tell him that this was not the day for joking, but she realized that he showed no signs of lying. “Then who did I leave Natasha with?”

Sophie and Nate shared a wide-eyed look, and took off towards the nursery.

 

~o0o~

 

Peggy Milbank found a few other guests, but somehow lost her boyfriend in the process. She had no idea where Jack had disappeared to, but she wasn’t really worried about it, since she was getting to meet several of Alice’s other friends. She’d hung around in the church foyer after Jack took off to see if he could find anyone, and a few minutes after he left, a man and a young woman entered. They introduced themselves as Todd McSweeten and Amy Palavi. McSweeten said that he worked with Alice (though he called her ‘Hagan’ which Peggy assumed was one of her spy aliases) and Amy said that she worked at Hardison’s brew pub.

Peggy, being in the food business, was looking forward to seeing this brew pub later. The reception was being held there. Peggy and Jack flew up to Portland from Boston for the wedding yesterday, so they hadn’t had time to see much of the city.

Amy was in the middle of a wild tale about Alice saving her from almost being kidnapped when Alice’s friend Marge and her husband ran out of the foyer in bit of a panic.

“Huh,” Amy said, stopping her story, “Sophie is the Maid of Honor, so I hope nothing’s gone wrong.”

Peggy wasn’t sure who this ‘Sophie’ was, or what she had to do with Marge freaking out, but before she could ask, McSweeten returned to their original subject.

“You know,” he said to Amy, “I’m an FBI agent, that’s how I know Agent Hagan, and she’s the best the agency’s got. You couldn’t have been in better hands.”

Amy chuckled uncomfortably, aware that Parker was not actually in the FBI. “Right . . .”

“Alice isn’t an FBI agent,” Peggy told him, “She’s a sp—”

Peggy’s phone rang before she could finish her sentence. “Oh my goodness,” She said as her meowing ringtone echoed in the church foyer, “I can’t believe I forgot to turn that off!” She dug around in her purse and finally pulled it out and answered it.

It was Jack.

“Hey, honeybun,” Jack said, “I’ve got a bit of a situation.”

Peggy rolled her eyes, “Well, I’ve found the other guests, we aren’t the only ones here early, so you can come back, we’re in the foyer and—”

“No, Peg, I’ve got a situation and I really need your help,” Jack interrupted, and Peggy had to admit that he did sound out of his element, “I found a baby.”

“You found a what?” Peggy asked, shooting a quick glance at Amy and McSweeten, who were respectfully staying quiet.

“A baby! Someone abandoned the little gal at the church. I need you to come here, I don’t know what to do,” Jack said, his voice rising. “I’m outside at a picnic table.

“Okay, okay,” Peggy sighed, “I’ll be right there.” She hung up.

Amy and McSweeten were looking at her like they wanted to ask if everything was okay, but didn’t want to pry.

“Uh, that was my boyfriend,” Peggy said, putting her phone back in her purse, “He’s having a bit of an issue, so I need to—” she stopped, and eyed McSweeten, “You said you’re an FBI agent, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” McSweeten said, looking a bit surprised.

Peggy made a face at being called ma’am but all she said was, “Can you come with me? I think it may require an officer of the law.”

“Of course,” McSweeten turned to Amy, “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Sure,” Amy smiled, “Good luck with . . . whatever it is.”

Peggy and McSweeten exited through the church’s front doors, leaving Amy all alone in the foyer.

 

~o0o~

 

It didn’t take long for Nate and Sophie to realize that Natasha was no longer in the nursery.

“Okay,” Sophie paced in front of the crib she’d left Natasha in, trying to stay calm, “Someone had to have taken her, right, because she couldn’t just up and leave on her own.”

“You said you thought you were talking to me in the closet,” Nate said, moving over to the closet and opening it up, “And you have no idea who could have been in here?”

“No,” Sophie shook her head hopelessly, “Eliot said you were in a Sunday school room, so I assumed that it had to be you. Who else would be in a nursery closet?”

“Why would _I_ be in a nursery closet?” Nate asked, sounding exasperated, “You know what, regardless, whoever was in here is probably the one that took Tasha.”

“Hey, there you are,” Eliot stuck his head in the door. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Parker and Hardison are both ready, and most of the guests are here now, a bunch of them were hanging around in the foyer, and even more are already seated, so can we get this thing rolling? We’re actually behind schedule, and there’s no real reason to wait. I can get everybody into the sanctuary so we can . . .” he trailed off, registering the panicked and guilty look on Sophie’s face. “What did you do?”

“I may have,” Sophie shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, “Accidentally misplaced Natasha.”

“You—” Eliot had to stop and restart, “You _misplaced_ her? How do you ‘misplace’ a baby, Sophie?”

“I know exactly where I placed her!” Sophie pointed to the crib, “I placed her right there, someone just came along and took her.”

“Someone took her? Damn, that’s not good,” Eliot switched into ruthless retrieval specialist mode, “Okay, we need to search each and every room, doing a sweep through the building. Someone had to have seen something. Everybody knows that Natasha is Parker and Hardison’s, so we know they’ll stir up a fuss if they see her with someone they don’t recognize. How long ago was this?”

Sophie bit her lip, “I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes?”

Eliot sighed, “Well, we’re just going to have to hope he’s still here somewhere. Let’s go.”

 

~o0o~

 

Tara Cole was getting impatient. Weddings aren’t usually her thing. Well, attending them as a guest and not a grifter wasn’t, at least. She wanted to get this show on the road so she could get back to LA by morning. There was a slew of wealthy movie producers waiting, and she didn’t want to be late to relieve them of their fortunes.

It was ten minutes before the wedding was scheduled to begin, and there had been no sign of Nate, Sophie or Eliot, let alone the bride and groom. Something was definitely up. If there’s one thing Sophie knows how to do, it’s plan an event.

Tara slipped out of the pew and out into the hallway, trying to find where Sophie and the team had set up shop to figure out what was going on. She heard footsteps farther down the hallway and peeked around the corner to find Eliot stalking through the dimly lit space wearing a very determined look.

“Eliot?” Tara called, knowing it was always better to announce your presence rather than sneak up on the hitter. “Is everything alright?”

Eliot grunted, “Have you seen Natasha?” he asked, flinging open the door to a room and doing a quick search of the inside.

“Natasha?” Tara repeated, hovering in the doorway, “Parker and Hardison’s baby?”

“Yeah.” Eliot left the room, leaving it much worse than he found it.

“You lost Parker and Hardison’s baby?” Tara asked, following Eliot down the hall and watching as he repeated the process in the next room.

“No!” Eliot brushed his hair out of his face angrily, “Sophie did!”

“Ah,” Tara nodded. “I’ll help you look.”

 

~o0o~

 

Jack took the mystery baby to the picnic table outside, since he didn’t want to disturb any of the wedding guests. The table was under a tree, a ways away from the church, in plain view of the front and side doors and the parking lot. Jack didn’t know much about babies, but this one seemed to like him, so he didn’t have any trouble with her, and he even made her laugh at his various funny faces.

“Pedro likes it when I make faces too,” he said to the mystery baby, “Pedro’s my cat. I don’t have any kids. Peggy says she doesn’t want to think about having them yet, but I think it’d be nice.”

Mystery baby just smiled at him and clapped her hands together.

“Jack!” Peggy’s voice made him jump, and he got up from the picnic table and turned around.

“Hey, Peg,” Jack smiled widely at his girlfriend, but she didn’t seem so happy to see him. It was probably because of the baby in his arms.

There was a man following Peggy. “You mind telling me what this is all about?” the man asked, looking from Peggy to Jack.

Peggy and McSweeten had both seen more recent pictures of Natasha, and were more likely to recognize her than Jack, but when Jack said, “I just found this baby. Someone left her at the church,” they both assumed that Jack meant he’d found the baby abandoned on the doorstep, so they didn’t think to look closer to see if they knew who she was.

“It’s hard to believe no one wants her,” Peggy remarked, fingering the baby’s sleeve, “She’s wearing such nice clothes.”

Jack shrugged, “There was no one around, I looked to see if she belonged to anyone.”

“I’ll check with the priest,” McSweeten said, “And see if the church has some kind of policy regarding abandoned babies. If not, I’ll have to call it in.”

“Thank you for your help,” Peggy said, smiling at McSweeten, “I’m sorry to bother you like this, but Jack and I would have no idea what to do.”

McSweeten nodded once, “No problem, ma’am. I’ll be back with the priest.”

“Who’s he?” Jack asked, watching McSweeten go back into the church through the side door.

Peggy shrugged, “Said he worked with Alice. He’s an FBI agent.”

“That’s funny,” Jack said, “Rose doesn’t work for the FBI.”

Before Peggy could answer, the mystery baby began to cry.

Jack’s eyes widened, “Uh-oh. I think she might have just pooped. Smell!” he stuck the baby’s butt in Peggy’s face.

Peggy jerked backwards, resisting the urge to swat at him for fear she might hit the baby, “Stop it, Jack!”

“Sorry.”

The baby was still crying.

“Give her to me,” Peggy said, exasperated, “I’ll take her to the bathroom and see if I can’t clean her up. Heaven knows where I’ll get a clean diaper from.”

“If there’s anyone who can figure it out, it’s you,” Jack said as he handed the baby to his girlfriend, “I believe in you, sweetie pie.”

Peggy softened a bit, realizing that she’d been a little harsh towards Jack since they’d arrived. She kissed his cheek, “I’ll be right back.” She headed inside with the baby, leaving Jack at the picnic table by himself.

 

~o0o~

 

The whole wedding was all but self-destructing. And it was all Sophie’s fault. Some friend she was. All of the guests were now seated in the sanctuary, waiting for the ceremony to begin (except she would have sworn that she’d seen Peggy and McSweeten talking to Amy earlier, but they were nowhere to be seen). Sophie couldn’t bring herself to tell Parker and Hardison the truth, so instead she called them both and told Parker that Hardison had a wardrobe malfunction and told Hardison the same thing about Parker. She emphasized that they were still confined to their dressing rooms until further notice.

Hardison apparently didn’t like her explanation, “You said earlier that she was already dressed and everything was fine.”

“Yes, well, you know, things happen,” Sophie chuckled, using every grifter trick she knew to keep her voice steady, but she had a feeling that Hardison wasn’t buying it.

“Sophie, you don’t have to cover for her,” he said, his voice softer, “If she’s nervous about anything, or having second thoughts, she can talk to me about it.”

“No!” Sophie had interjected, “No, that’s not it at all! You can’t see the bride before the wedding, big no-no. I’ve got to go now—”

“Wait, Sophie!”

“Bye!” Sophie had hung up on him, letting out a breath.

Now she climbed up to the pulpit, smiling the familiar faces. “Hello, everyone. Isn’t this exciting, huh?” she said, trying to sound upbeat and encouraging, “For those of you that don’t know, I’m Sophie, the Maid of Honor,” Sophie left out that she was sharing the title with Natasha, since Natasha was the last thing she wanted to bring up right now, at least until they found her. “And, I’m so sorry for the delay, I’m sure you’re all wondering what’s going on, but it turns out that we can’t get our sound working correctly and the music won’t seem to play.” Sophie shrugged. At least she was in her element, lying to large groups of people like this. “This is what happens when you let someone other than Hardison do the tech stuff, am I right?” There were a few chuckles and nods from the guests, which Sophie took as a good sign. “So, you know, mingle, get to know one another, talk about these crazy kids, and I’ll let you know as soon as everything is up and running.”

Speaking of running, Sophie just about sprinted off of the pulpit.

“Great job, Sophie,” Nate said into the com in her ear, “Now, where haven’t we checked yet?”

 

~o0o~

 

Tara left Eliot to his search of the rooms, deciding to find the church’s office and see if there were any security cameras in the place. There was only one that still worked, pointing at the church’s side entrance. Tara backed the footage up to around the time Natasha went missing.

Her efforts were rewarded when she saw a burly man with a beard awkwardly carrying Natasha out the door. Tara hurried to that entrance, not bothering to tell Nate, Sophie, or Eliot. She’d handle this.

Tara found the bearded man at a picnic table not too far away from the church, in the shade of a few trees. “Hey!” Tara called, stalking up to the man. Natasha was nowhere to be seen.

The man jumped at her voice, and stood up, “Can I help you?”

“Who are you, huh?” Tara demanded, taking the man by surprise and landing a fist in his gut. He doubled over, coughing, and Tara grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, shoving him against the picnic table. “Where is she?”

“What?” the man gasped out, “My—my name is Jack, Jack Hurley. Do I know you?”

Tara ignored his question. “Where’s Natasha?”

“Rose and Hardison’s daughter?” This Hurley fellow was good at acting stupid and confused, that was for sure. “How should I know? Isn’t she with her parents?”

“The camera’s caught you taking her out here,” Tara increased her grip on Hurley’s arm, making him let out a squeak of pain. “Did you hand her off to someone? Trying to make a quick buck by ransoming their kid, at their wedding off all places?”

“What?” Hurley let out a relieved chuckle, “No, you’re mistaken. That wasn’t Rose’s baby. I found that baby. I was just trying to help.”

“Where is she?” Tara repeated, not buying his story.

It was at this point that Jack took inventory of his situation, and decided that whoever this woman was, whether she was mistaken or not, she was obviously very dangerous. He didn’t want this woman anywhere near Peggy (or the baby, for that matter) so he clammed up, determined to keep silent, for Peggy’s sake.

 

~o0o~

 

Peggy missed Sophie’s announcement because she was in the bathroom with the mystery baby, trying her best to clean up the baby’s bottom with toilet paper. She glanced up as a pretty blonde woman entered the bathroom and went over to the sink, inspecting her makeup. (Peggy didn’t know why she bothered, since the woman was gorgeous).

Peggy suddenly realized that she had no idea what time it was, “Oh!” she said aloud, “It hasn’t started yet, has it? I got so caught up with this . . .”

The blonde smiled sympathetically, “Don’t worry, you’ve got time. There’s something wrong with the sound system or something, so they ceremony’s been delayed.”

“Oh, that’s a relief!” Peggy said, and then considered, “Well, probably not for Alice and Hardison, since I’m sure they’re raring to go.”

“Alice?” the blonde squinted for a minute, and then nodded, “Oh, you mean Parker. Yes, I’m sure she’s on pins and needles.” The woman paused, and then smiled wider, “I’m Maggie, Nate’s ex-wife.”

“Nate . . .” Peggy thought for a moment, “Oh! Marge’s husband! Nice to meet you. I’m Peggy. I’d shake your hand, but,” she gestured to the half-dressed baby in front of her.

Maggie chose not to comment on Peggy calling Sophie ‘Marge.’

Peggy appeared to consider, and then turned to Maggie, “I hate to bother you, but I don’t have any diapers, and this is kind of an emergency, so would you mind running and asking Alice—or, Parker, I guess you call her—if she has any extra? I know she has her daughter here with her, and I hate to distract her on her wedding day, but I’m not really sure what else to do.”

Maggie smiled, “Of course. That’ll be no trouble at all. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you so much!” Peggy let out a sigh, turning back to the baby. “We’ll get you all fixed up in no time, won’t we? Yes, we will!” she cooed to the little girl as Maggie slipped out of the bathroom.

Maggie wandered around for a few minutes, but it didn’t take very many tries before she found the right door (after she ran into a man looking for the priest. Maggie assumed he meant Nate, and pointed him in the direction that she thought the boys dressing room was).

Parker had been sitting when Maggie knocked, but she jumped to her feet when she saw who came in, “Maggie!”

Maggie smiled at Parker, who looked stunning in her wedding dress, and started to speak when a voice came from the chair across from Parkers, which Maggie hadn’t noticed since it wasn’t in view of the doorway.

“I’ll leave you to your other friends, then,” the older woman in the chair said, standing slowly. She kissed Parker’s cheek, “Everything is going to be fine, dear, and you just call me if Alec gives you any trouble.”

“Thanks, Nana,” Parker said.

Maggie stepped out of the way as the woman left the room, giving Maggie a once over before she did.

“I’m sorry we’re running behind,” Parker said before the door even closed behind Nana. “Hopefully Hardison can get it worked out soon.”

“I’m sure he can,” Maggie smiled encouragingly at the younger girl. It wasn’t hard to see that delay was making her nervous. “He’s a wizard with anything electronic, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Parker hesitated, frowning like something didn’t quite add up. “What electronic thing?”

Maggie shrugged, “Sophie said that the sound wasn’t working . . . Didn’t she tell you?”

Parker blinked, and then forced a smile, “Oh, of course. Duh, don’t know what I was thinking,” she gave a slightly exaggerated shake of her head. “Anyway, if you didn’t come to ask what was taking so long, then what can I do for you?”

“Oh,” Maggie remembered her mission, and felt guilty for keeping the poor woman (and child!) waiting. “There’s a woman in the bathroom, and she didn’t pack enough diapers for her daughter. She wanted to know if you had a spare. She seemed really frazzled, and didn’t want to bother you but—”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Parker dug around in her bag and coming up with a diaper. “I guess Hardison’s foster sister made it, after all,” she said, handing the diaper to Maggie. Hardison had an older foster sister with a girl a few months older than Tasha. They’d invited her to the wedding along with Hardison’s other foster siblings, but she hadn’t wanted to travel with a baby. Hardison would be happy if she’d managed to make it.

Maggie shrugged, no idea who ‘Peggy’ really was. “Well, I better get this back to her, but you look gorgeous, Parker, and you’re going to be great today. I know that you and Hardison are going to have a great life.”

Parker smiled, “Thanks, Maggie.”

Maggie opened the door, “Oh, and I can’t wait to meet little Natasha! Nate’s been bending my ear about her ever since she was born!”

Parker said that she was sure Maggie would see her before it was all said and done, and Maggie left the room. She took the diaper back to Peggy in the bathroom, who thanked her profusely. A quick check in the sanctuary told her that the sound system was still down, so Maggie decided to run out to her car where she’d left her sweater, since the church was getting kind of chilly.

Maggie was just slamming her car door closed when Nate approached her from behind, making her jump. “Hey,” Maggie said, draping her sweater over her arm, “There was this guy looking for you earlier—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nate waved that off, “Listen, have you seen a baby anywhere? Six months old, dark hair, kind of dark skin, wearing a pink outfit, kind of fancy?”

Maggie smiled, “I didn’t realize she’d been missing. I just saw her in the bathroom with her mother.”

Nate relaxed, “With her mother, you said?”

“Yeah,” Maggie nodded, “She asked me to borrow a diaper from Parker, since she was out.”

Nate started, and then took off toward the church, calling over his shoulder, “That’s not her mother!”

“What?” Maggie followed him.

They ran through the parking lot, but slowed when they heard what sounded like shouts of pain coming from a small shaded area next to the church.

“Is that . . . Tara?” Maggie asked Nate, shading her eyes with her hands and squinting at the figures in the distance. “Beating someone up?”

Tara had a large man on the ground in front of her, his arm in her grip and her foot pressed against his back.

“Tara!” Nate jogged up to them, “What are you doing?”

Tara looked up, flipping her hair out of her face, “He had Natasha, and he won’t tell me what he did with her.” She let go of Jack, removing her foot.

“Yeah, well, I know where she is now,” Nate said, looking from the cool and collected Tara to the wincing and puffing Jack, who was sitting on the ground, clutching his arm. “Really?” Nate raised an eyebrow at Jack, “Really, Hurley? She beat you that easily?”

Maggie glared at Nate, and he shrugged and started towards the church. Maggie helped Jack to his feet.

“Wait, so the baby in the bathroom was Natasha?” Maggie asked, but Nate was already striding away.

“Natasha really was missing?” Hurley asked Maggie as she helped him hobble after the others.

“Apparently so,” Maggie said.

Jack sighed, “Dammit! I screwed up again.”

 

~o0o~

 

Peggy had just finished changing mystery baby’s diaper when the door to the bathroom opened and Amy came in.

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” Amy said when she saw what Peggy was doing.

“What is?” Peggy asked, adjusting the baby’s clothes one final time.

“Taking care of Natasha while Parker is busy,” Amy shrugged, “I thought that was supposed to be Sophie’s job today, but I guess since she’s dealing with the sound issue . . .”

Peggy looked down at the baby, finally seeing her for the first time. “This is Alice’s baby!”

Amy frowned at her, “If you didn’t know who’s baby she is, why were you changing her diaper?”

“I’ve got to get her back to Alice!” Peggy said, scooping up Natasha and taking off to find Parker.

Amy was still staring after Peggy when the bathroom door banged open again and Nate barged in. Amy opened her mouth to ask why he was in the woman’s restroom, but closed it again, since she’s seen Nate do much stranger things.

“Natasha?” Nate asked, breathing heavily.

Amy saw a wide array of people behind Nate, including Sophie and Eliot, who they’d picked up on the way to the bathroom, “Uh, Peggy said she was taking her to Parker.”

Nate and his entourage turned around without another word.

“Wait!” Amy called after them, “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

 

~o0o~

 

Parker was about ready to forget tradition and find Hardison to ask him what the hell was wrong with his wardrobe that it was taking this long to fix, when Peggy burst through the doors, Natasha in her arms.

“I’m so sorry!” Peggy exclaimed, holding Natasha out to Parker.

“For what?” Parker asked, taking Natasha from Peggy, “Why do you have Tasha? Where’s Sophie?”

“I’m here!” Sophie said, rushing through the door. Nate, Eliot, Tara, Jack, Amy, and Maggie were behind her, all varying degrees of out of breath. They reluctantly told Parker about Natasha’s adventure, each volunteering their own pieces of the puzzle. Parker was frowning when they finished, and they braced themselves for the arrival of Mama Bear Parker.

But Parker smiled, and shrugged, “Okay.”

Sophie blinked at her, sure that Parker had misheard some piece of vital information somewhere, “What?”

“You’re telling me that Tasha just got passed between Hurley and Peggy while the rest of you either searched for her, or helped Hurley and Peggy take care of her?” Parker asked.

Sophie glanced at the others before saying, “Well, yes, in a nutshell.”

“It seemed more complicated when it was happening,” Tara put in.

Parker shrugged again, “Okay. I trust each of you,” she paused, “But someone should probably tell McSweeten that he can stop looking for the priest.”

“Yeah,” Sophie laughed, “Yeah, someone probably should.”


	10. The Parker and Hardison's Big Day Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker and Hardison get hitched!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Without further ado, here is the (real) wedding chapter! Like I mentioned before, it fits between what was going on in the last one, and then continues after it.

Hardison sat in Lucille, bouncing Natasha on his knee. He’d missed her. Last night was only the third night he’d spent away from her (he’d told Parker that he didn’t want to do long-distance jobs, but of course she hadn’t listened to him, at least not until she’d realized that a three-month-old isn’t the easiest to deal with all alone). He had to admit that he was not a fan of stupid tradition about not seeing each other before the wedding, but Sophie had somehow gotten Parker on board with the idea (and he was not ruling out hypnotism or neurolinguistic programing) so he was stuck in the van with Natasha while Parker and the rest of them secured the church. He wished he had some idea of Parker’s emotional state. Some emotional situations were no problem for her, even ones he would expect to be an issue, and others left her in varying stages of denial or anger, usually followed by a very confusing argument.

“The church is ours,” Parker said over the coms.

At least Hardison got to hear her voice. She sounded fine. Actually, she sounded like it was just any other day, any old job. Should he be worried about the fact that she didn’t seem worried? Nah, a lack of worry was probably a good thing. Right?

Eliot banged on the back of Lucille, distracting Hardison from his fears.

Hardison opened the van doors.

“Give me Tasha,” Eliot said, holding his hands out for her, “I’m supposed to take her to Parker.”

Hardison handed his daughter over, “You know, man, I’m not really into this whole separation thing, are you sure that—”

“Not my department,” Eliot interrupted, “You have to talk to Sophie about that.”

Hardison sighed. Of course he would. And Sophie would never go for it.

“I’ll meet you in the dressing room,” Eliot said, heading off with Hardison’s daughter.

“Right,” Hardison said, shaking his head and rooting around for his garment bag. “See you there.”

 

~o0o~

 

Parker was in one of the chairs when Sophie entered, arms clutched around her stomach. She’d seen a few of the guests arriving out the window, and called Sophie. Sophie always knew how to fix her.

“Is everything alright?” Sophie asked, sitting in the chair across from her. She didn’t give Parker time to answer, “You know, pre-wedding jitters are normal. Almost all brides have them at some point. I know I did. Do I really know this man—or in my case, does he really know me—what am I getting myself into, should I really have paired those roses with that tablecloth? It’s perfectly normal.”

Parker wrinkled her nose, “This has nothing to do with marrying Hardison.”

“Oh,” Sophie blinked, and leaned back in her chair, “Then what . . . ?”

Parker huffed a little, “I just realized that we’ve invited all these people that became our friends, but we met them on cons, when we were different people.”

“So?” Sophie thought she knew where Parker was going with this, but she wasn’t entirely positive.

Parker glared at her, frustration coming through, “So, I’m going to have to switch between all those people! Rose, Alice, Hagan,” she gestured hopelessly, “I can’t turn them on and off like you can. I can’t grift like that.”

“Parker,” Sophie leaned forward, reaching a hand out and resting it on Parker’s knee. “You don’t have to switch. Rose, Alice, and Hagan aren’t different people. They’re all _you_.”

Parker’s eyebrows scrunched together, “But all of yours are different people. You’ve told me, you get inside their heads, know what they need and want. That’s why you had to bury ‘Sophie Devereaux’ when you left, because you were trying to find the real you. And now you are you, you just use Sophie’s name. You _told_ me,” she reiterated, “You told me that’s how you grift—how I should grift.”

Sophie sighed, “I said that when I thought that my methods would work for everyone, when I didn’t know you like I do now. That’s not how _you_ do it, whether you know it or not. Not on your reoccurring aliases, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Parker kept her eyes on Sophie’s face.

“All of your more substantial aliases are built on pieces of you,” Sophie said, “Rose was admittedly drugged most of the time, but that was the part of you that wanted help. That year in Los Angeles, when we barely knew each other, it wasn’t blatantly obvious how much you wanted help, wanted people to understand you, but it was there. We could tell, even when you went off script or almost got everyone killed.”

Parker looked down, not ashamed, but thoughtful.

“Alice White is the part of you that wanted to know what it was like to be normal, even just for a little bit,” Sophie said, removing her hand from Parker’s knee, aware that she now had enough of Parker’s attention that she didn’t need the touch. “And even though you didn’t know how—you failed spectacularly on many counts, actually—you still wanted it enough that you could pull it off.”

Parker frowned, “But Alice White _is_ normal. And I’m not. So how can she still be me?”

“Tell me this,” Sophie said, “We’re talking about Alice and Rose like they’re separate people, but when you were being them, did you ever stop thinking ‘What would Alice do?’ or ‘What would Rose say?’”

Parker hesitated, “Maybe when I was drugged.”

“Other than that,” Sophie brushed that aside. “You were still _you_ pretending to be them.”

“Isn’t that what we all do?” Parker asked, “Isn’t that what grifting is, pretending to be someone else?”

Sophie thought about her answer, “Yes. But I don’t need to think, ‘What would Annie or Charlotte or Jenny or Indira do?’ because I know what they would do and I know what they would think. I adjust it for what the con requires, but if I don’t believe in what I’m saying, in who I am, then I’ll never sell a character. You sell your aliases, Parker, because your own desires give authenticity to your performance.”

Parker didn’t quite look convinced, but she nodded slowly, “Do the others—do Hagan. What are the other parts of me?”

Sophie chuckled. Parker had a weird way of completely understanding herself and yet being completely incapable of realizing it. “I’d guess that Hagan is your desire to be you, but also be a recognizable ‘good guy’ at the same time. She gets to fight crime, gets to be a hero, while still leaving room for the nomadic lifestyle and crazy hijinks that you love. Plus, she’s got a handsome and dorky partner mooning after her, and we all know how much you like those,” Sophie smirked a little, but Parker didn’t take the bait. “Alice-the-spy is even more like that,” Sophie continued. “I’d say that she’s different from Alice White, even though they have the same name. Alice-the-spy gets to steal, grift, and handle a bomb threat, but still goes to book club and brunch, plus gets to be that hero ‘good guy’ like Hagan.”

Parker bit her lip, and looked up at Sophie. “I never thought about it that way.”

Sophie smiled, since it was obvious that Parker was feeling much better, “Even Kelly Beth Laughlin from the mining job had a bit of your need to please people. Kelly Beth needed to please an authority figure, but you need to please the people you care about, which is part of the reason you’re so worried about maintaining appearances out there in the first place.”

“So what do I do?” Parker asked, fiddling with her engagement ring.

“At the risk of being too cliché—” (If Sophie would have thought about it, she would have realized that Parker probably didn’t have that many people in her childhood who repeated clichés at her, which begged the question of what would be too cliché for Parker, a slightly terrifying subject) “—you just have to be yourself,” Sophie said, shrugging. “Be Parker.”

Parker looked unconvinced.

“Or, if being Parker is too hard or too . . . revealing, let’s say, then be Alice Parker,” Sophie smiled, “Because Alice Parker is the amazing mother that we all know that you are. Anyone here today who sees you with Natasha will be able to tell, instantly, how great you are with her, and how much you love her. Let that overshadow the other parts of you that they know, the Rose parts or the Alice White parts or the Hagan parts because none of those parts are as relevant to your life now—to the person you are now—as the mother and soon-to-be-wife parts.”

Parker smiled that quick flash of a sad smile that had more layers than even Sophie could uncover, and said, “I really appreciate everything you do for me, Sophie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Sophie smiled, “I’m sure you’d get along just fine,” she said, but she was truly touched by Parker’s words. She stood. “I better get back, there’s still a lot to do.”

Parker nodded, and watched Sophie leave, pondering everything her friend had said.

 

~o0o~

 

Hardison stared at himself in the mirror, fiddling with his bowtie. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Not only was he getting married, but he was marrying _Parker_? Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought . . .

It was no secret that he’d had a thing for Parker, that he’d been in love with her, for a lot longer than she’d had feelings for him. A beautiful woman with a sexy fearlessness, who could rob anyone and steal anything and get away with it? _Damn_. And have you seen her twist through a laser grid? Who the hell wouldn’t be attracted to that?

And then he’d gotten to know her, come to understand the terrible injustices that made her who she is, and his heart broke for her even as it beat faster in her proximity. Watching Parker become comfortable with them—with _him_ —watching as, incrementally, she decided she was going to change, she was going to let them in, because they were her family and they were worth it?

That was probably the most amazing thing he’s ever witnessed.

His daughter’s birth was just as powerful, but in most ways, Hardison counted that as another step in Parker’s evolution. Natasha aside (because she really came out of left field, so there was no way that Hardison could have even dreamed of something as incredible as her), that guy he’d been in the beginning, the one that’d offered Parker a whole box of earbuds, the one that’d told Eliot that he’d never get married even as Parker’s face filled his head, the one that’d spent the better part of six months looking for her with the feel of her kiss still on his lips, that guy wouldn’t have dreamed he’d get anything more than that kiss, than a weird sideways friendship, and that guy had resolved himself to being satisfied with nothing else.

The guy he’d been after that, the one that spent weeks agonizing over what she meant by ‘fiddly,’ the one that maybe didn’t hate being in her chokehold as much as he made out to, the one that got a little jealous of McSweetheart’s attention, that was way too happy to play the Iceman if it meant Parker got to be his Sheila because damn those were some short dresses, that guy figured that he better count his lucky stars because Parker was comfortable enough to let him touch her occasionally, to pretend not to notice some of his less-than-subtle appreciative glances or his annoyance at McSweeten. That guy didn’t think he was getting anything else, either.

And, when Parker had broken a beer bottle with her bare hands and told him that she had feelings for pretzels? That was probably the best day of his life. But he couldn’t push her, she wasn’t like normal girls, and that made her amazing, but that also made her skittish with her emotions. Which was okay, it just meant they spent a lot of time in limbo, first when the feelings had been acknowledged but he was waiting on her cues before he tried to make a move, and then when they had a ‘thing’ that wasn’t exactly dating each other but it was definitely not dating anyone else (not that he’d really dated anyone else in a long time anyway).

Even when they had their thing, even when they were dating for real, he hadn’t thought it would get this far. Nana always told him to appreciate what you’ve got, and don’t ever take it for granted, which he’d already learned from his time in the system before he landed with Nana. He still never would have thought of proposing, because this was Parker, and he was with Parker, and a couple of rings and some vows didn’t seem necessary anyway, because _he was with Parker and what could be better than that_?

Standing here, looking at himself all gussied up for his wedding, he realized how wrong he’d been. At each stage of his relationship with Parker, he’d thought that that would be his storybook ending, and he’d been happy with that. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a _real_ storybook ending, a _real_ happily ever after moment.

Parker deserved one too.

None of these thoughts, or his knowledge that Parker did love him and did want to marry him, none of that really helped much, though, when he was being told that the wedding was delayed because of ‘wardrobe malfunctions’ and Sophie wasn’t being very forthcoming with information.

“You said earlier that she was already dressed and everything was fine,” Hardison said when Sophie had called to explain the hold up.

“Yes, well, you know, these things happen,” Sophie chuckled, and it wasn’t hard to tell that she was covering something up.

“Sophie, you don’t have to cover for her,” Hardison said quietly, “If she’s nervous about anything, or having second thoughts, she can talk to me about it.” The last thing he wanted was for Parker to go out there and marry him if she had any reservations at all about doing it.

“No!” Sophie said quickly, “No, that’s not it at all! You can’t see the bride before the wedding, big no-no. I’ve got to go now—”

“Wait, Sophie!”

“Bye!” Sophie hung up on him.

Hardison let out a frustrated noise and threw the phone on the chair, rubbing his face.

It was fine. He had no reason to think that this was anything more than what Sophie said it was, a wardrobe malfunction.

Parker wouldn’t have agreed to marry him unless she really wanted to, just like she hadn’t told him she loved him until she was sure she did. She wouldn’t walk down that aisle unless she was sure.

Hardison was way past doubting her feelings. In the beginning of their relationship, sure, there were moments when he wondered if she actually liked him after all. But, now, after everything, he knew. It would be a disservice to her emotional journey if he didn’t trust her feelings for him.

He just had to hope that whatever went wrong was fixed soon.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker hadn’t been nervous. She didn’t really see a need to. Hardison loved her, and she loved him, they had a wonderful daughter together, so why should a ceremony that only ‘officialized’ their relationship be any big thing to get worked up over?

And then Sophie had come in and assumed that Parker had doubts about the whole thing. Sophie had said that doubts were normal. Parker knew she wasn’t normal, but she also knew that Hardison tended to lean that way, so what if he was having all those doubts that Sophie talked about?

It wasn’t the most comforting thought, especially since Parker could come up with about a million different reasons why marrying her wasn’t the best idea. The whole thing would be a lot easier to handle if Sophie hadn’t sounded completely unconvincing when she said that Hardison was having wardrobe problems.

There was a knock on the door, which Parker yanked open, hoping it would be Sophie telling her it was time to go.

Nana was standing in front of her.

“Oh,” Parker said, blinking, “Hello.”

Nana smiled, “Hello, dear.”

Parker stepped back and let Nana come in the room. “What are you doing here?”

Nana chuckled, and Parker belatedly realized that maybe that question was rude. “When I heard there was going to be a delay, I thought I’d come see how you’re doing.”

“You think I’m having second thoughts, too?” Parker asked, dropping into her chair.

“No,” Nana said measuredly, sitting across from her, in the chair Sophie had been in earlier. “No, that’s not what’s bothering you.”

“What do you mean?” Parker asked, frowning.

“Alec is a very special man, you know that,” Nana said, folding her hands in her lap, “He’s a very loving man.”

Parker nodded, but didn’t speak.

“You thought that you weren’t good enough for him,” Nana leveled her gaze on Parker, “And I need to know if you still feel that way.”

Parker blinked, and her mouth fell open.

“Because, frankly, that’s bullshit,” Nana continued without hesitation, “If he loves you, then you’re good enough.”

Parker cleared her throat, “I don’t . . .”

“I may not know you as well as I’d like,” the look Nana shot Parker over her glasses made Parker decide that she wouldn’t be surprised if Nana did actually know all her secrets, “but I know you came from a bad place. I know better than most how that affects a person. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter to me, or to Alec, or to your family out there. So get over it. Because Alec wouldn’t have that depth of love in his eyes if marrying you wasn’t right.”

Parker looked down at her hands, “I just think—Doesn’t he deserve someone who can give him that depth in return?”

Nana squinted at her, “Who says you can’t? Other than that nagging voice in the back of your head? The only thing that could make you unworthy of him is if you continue to believe that you are.”

The women sat in silence for a few minutes.

“See my ring?” Parker’s voice seemed much too loud. She stuck her hand out, “You were looking for a ring before, when I didn’t have one . . .” she trailed off.

Nana took Parker’s hand lightly in hers, twisting it a bit to let the emeralds and diamond catch the light, “It’s beautiful. Did you pick it out?”

Parker nodded, taking her hand back.

There was another silence. Parker looked at anything but Nana, and Nana didn’t take her eyes off of Parker’s face.

“How did you know?” Parker broke the silence again, “How did you know what I feel about Alec?”

Nana waited a second longer before answering, “When you told me about the baby, and I yelled at Alec for not marrying you first?” Nana waited until Parker nodded that, yes, she remembered. “You were very clear, Parker,” Nana went on, “You were very clear that you were the reason that Alec hadn’t proposed, that he was waiting on you.”

Parker bit her lip, “I thought that he was. He’s always waited on me.”

“It wasn’t the words, as much as the guilt in them,” Nana leaned forward, “That, and your insistence that Alec is good ‘without trying.’”

“Yeah,” Parker blinked rapidly, and looked down.

Nana reached across and grabbed Parker’s hand, “You know Alec. You know how much love he has. Do you really think he’d give so much to you if you didn’t deserve it? If you assume that Alec’s wrong about you, that he thinks you’re better than you are, then you’re insulting his intelligence.”

Parker looked up, meeting Nana’s eyes. She was blinking away tears, but she had a little smile on her face. “Thank you, Nana.”

Nana smiled back, “Of course, dear. Now,” she leaned back and folded her hands in her lap, “Tell me about my granddaughter. I was hoping she’d be here with you.”

Parker wiped away the lingering tears, “She’s with Sophie. Sophie decided that Hardison and I should take a day off from worrying about her.”

Nana’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, “She wasn’t with Sophie when I saw her earlier.”

“Oh,” Parker shrugged, “Then she’s with Nate or Eliot, probably. Sophie mentioned leaving her with Nate.”

“Right,” Nana seemed unconvinced, but then smiled, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Someone knocked on the door before either of them could consider the issue further. When Parker saw that it was Maggie, she jumped to her feet. “Maggie!”

“I’ll leave you to your other friends, then,” Nana said, standing, “Everything is going to be fine, dear, and you just call me if Alec gives you any trouble.”

“Thanks, Nana,” Parker said, and Nana left, casting those calculating eyes at Maggie as she did. Parker started to apologize to Maggie for the delay, assuming that was what Maggie was here to talk about. Maggie just wanted a diaper, though, which Parker was more than willing to give. It was strange, though, that Maggie seemed to be under the impression that the problem was with the sound system instead of Hardison’s wardrobe. Whatever the case, Parker hoped that whatever was broken would get fixed soon, so they could get on with the ceremony. She felt a lot better about the whole thing, and was back to being excited about walking down the aisle.

 

~o0o~

 

There was a knock on Hardison’s door, which he opened without hesitation, hoping that it was Sophie or Nate or someone coming to tell him it was time to start. Honestly this was getting ridiculous.

McSweeten stood there, eyes wide and apologetic, “You are not the priest,” he said.

“No, I am not,” Hardison agreed, opening the door wider and letting McSweeten step through.

“Sorry,” McSweeten surveyed the room, looking for a desk or file cabinet that might have useful information, “I was told the priest was here earlier. We’ve had a situation and need to know church policy. We found a—” McSweeten stopped, “Sorry, you don’t need to be bothered with agency business on your wedding day. I’m sure you’ve got enough to worry about.”

“Yeah, you got that right,” Hardison said, chuckling. He didn’t really know where he stood with McSweeten. They’d worked together fine in the past, and he knew that McSweeten was a good guy, but they weren’t exactly friends either, at least not like Parker and McSweeten were.

“I’m sure it must be pretty great, though, huh?” McSweeten said, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth slightly, “Marrying Hagan? That seems like a dream come true.”

“Yeah,” Hardison nodded, a smile slipping out, “Yeah, man, it is.”

“I’m glad—” McSweeten took a deep breath, “I’m glad she’s happy. She deserves it.”

Hardison looked the other man in the eyes, nodding, “You know, Todd, she’s lucky to have you as a friend. She never really had any friends, especially none that accepted her, ah, quirks the way you did. She really appreciates that, I know she does.”

“Really?” McSweeten looked so hopeful that Hardison felt bad for the guy.

“Oh, yeah,” Hardison clapped McSweeten on the shoulder, “You know she framed that haiku you gave her? It’s on her desk right now.”

McSweeten smiled widely, “I’m glad she liked it.”

“Look, man,” Hardison said, taking a deep breath, “You’re a great guy. And if things had worked out a little differently, you might have ended up being the guy for Hagan. But just because it didn’t turn out like that doesn’t mean that you can’t be a great guy for some other lucky woman out there.”

McSweeten nodded, looking down, “Yeah. Not gonna lie, though, this still kind of sucks.”

Hardison wasn’t really sure what to say to that, because what kind of consolation could he give, when he was getting the life that McSweeten dreamed of?

“Just, uh,” McSweeten took a step towards the door, “Just be good to her, okay? Treat her right.”

“Of course,” Hardison stood up straighter.

McSweeten took one last look at Hardison, and slipped out of the room, letting the door click behind him.

 

~o0o~

 

Natasha was back in Parker’s arms, and they were ready to get things rolling. Nate and Eliot went to get Hardison and take their place at the front of the sanctuary, and Tara, Peggy, Maggie, Amy, and Jack set off to make sure that everyone was in their seats and ready to go. (Amy was the one that found McSweeten and explained everything to him. They returned to the sanctuary together and sat in the same pew).

“You ready?” Sophie asked Parker, reaching out pick a piece of pink thread from Natasha’s outfit off of Parker’s dress.

“Yeah,” Parker smiled, “Yeah, I am.”

Sophie bit back a proud smile and took Natasha from her. “Then here we go!”

 

~o0o~

 

“You ready for this, man?” Eliot asked, eyeing Hardison.

“I’ve been shaking for the past hour,” Hardison sounded annoyed, but Eliot knew it was just the nerves, “So, yeah, I think I’m past ready.”

Eliot rolled his eyes, but the gesture was affectionate, “Then let’s go.”

They stepped out into the sanctuary, taking their place at the front of the church. Nate gave Hardison a bracing look, and then the music started and all eyes turned to the back of the room.

 

~o0o~

 

Sophie walked down the aisle, taking measured steps. She smiled at everyone she passed, well aware that most of the gazes were on the child in her arms. She wore a pink dress, halter top and knee length, and Natasha’s little two-piece outfit was the same color. Sophie walked down that aisle like she was in front of thousands of people, instead of about fifteen.

Natasha, for her part, was no worse for the wear after her busy day. She just gave the room a wide-eyed six-month-old stare, leaning around in Sophie’s arms to peer at everyone.

Sophie took her place to the left of Nate, but no one was looking at her anymore, because the guests all stood, starting with Nana, and turned to look at the rear of the room.

Parker took a hesitant step forward, and then another, glancing at the faces around her until she caught Hardison’s slow grin, and then the steps came much easier, and being the center of attention didn’t matter at all.

“She’s beautiful,” Sophie whispered, and all Nate could do was nod.

She walked alone, both hands around her small bouquet. Archie was present, in the pew opposite Nana, but though he was the closest thing Parker had to a father growing up, the closest thing is far from the real thing.

Parker raised herself. After a string of abusive or careless foster parents, in between visits from Archie when he could sneak away from his wife and kids, in old warehouses and factories, on the street and in tunnels under cities, Parker raised herself. If anyone deserved to give her away, to hand her over to her new family, it was Parker. She’d done it all alone.

And no one, not even Archie, could deny it.

Walking down that aisle, she was beautiful, she was strong and, to Hardison, she was light. She was always light, the bright flash of a blonde ponytail in an air vent, or the glint of a smile in the back of Lucille, the blaze of her hands skipping across a keypad, and the dance of the moonlight on her skin in bed next to him. Right now, walking toward him, halo of soft waves falling around her face, white dress set off by pale exposed shoulders, a gleam in her eyes, and a fiercely happy smile on her face, right now, Hardison didn’t know how he’d ever been scared of the dark, because he should have been blinded by this woman years ago.

And then she was next to him, and he thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t gone blind, because this was an image he wanted seared into his brain for the rest of his life.

“Friends, family,” Nate said, stretching his arms out to encompass everyone in the room, reminding Hardison that there was, in fact, other people there besides himself and Parker. “We’re here to witness the union of Alec Hardison and Parker, and I don’t think I’m lying when I say that no one knows what this means better than me. I met Alec and Parker seven years ago, and at the time, I didn’t understand the journey that was beginning. I didn’t understand that I was meeting people that I’d consider my family for the rest of my life. If I had, well, I’d probably have been nicer to them.”

There were chuckles from the guests, who, despite having varying knowledge of the Leverage team and their real jobs, still knew enough to know that Nate was usually a bit of a jerk.

“I didn’t understand at the time that I’d come to need them, that I’d come to need this new family that had, frankly, been created for me,” Nate continued, aware of how much his words mattered to the team up there next to him. “I certainly didn’t understand how much they needed each other. I have never seen more personal growth in my life than what it’s been my pleasure to witness in Alec and Parker,” Nate switched his focus from the guests to the bride and groom, “Parker, Hardison, you once saw me officiate a wedding where I rambled about relationships being hard, heard me say that weddings are just one big con, and you saw me at my own wedding where I was frankly drunker than I should have been. I don’t need to tell you that love is hard, because you wouldn’t be standing here if you didn’t already know it. You don’t need me to tell you what a wedding means, because you never would have made it this far if you didn’t understand.” He paused, and looked at them both, one at a time, and then nodded slowly. After a second or two, he shook his head like he was breaking out of a spell, and said, “I understand that you’ve written your own vows? Hardison, you may begin.” Nate took a small step back, relieved that he would have a moment’s respite to get his emotions under control while Parker and Hardison professed theirs for everyone to hear.

Hardison cleared his throat, and looked out at the guests instead of at Parker. “Fearless,” he said, his voice loud and strong, “Of all the words that I could use to describe Parker—beautiful, talented, sneaky, beautiful,” he stopped, chuckling slightly, “I already said that. Sorry.” He looked down, and took a deep breath. Parker was looking at him, as was everyone else in the room, but right now, Parker was the only one that mattered. Hardison started again, bringing his eyes up to Parker’s, “Of all the words for Parker, the one that drew me to her the most was fearless. This woman will jump of a building without a second thought, she’ll crawl through dusty, dirty places without a care, she’ll cartwheel through a graveyard dodging bullets, and she’s certainly not afraid to be herself. I’d never met a woman—I’d never met _anyone_ like that—and it scared the hell out of me.”

There were more chuckles from the audience at that, so Hardison glanced out at the guests again, no longer caring that they were hanging onto his every word.

“Because of all the words out there that I think of when I think about myself,” Hardison took Parker’s hands, “Fearless is not one of them. But you have to be fearless when you fall in love, because love is scary, it can be awful just like it can be amazing, no matter if you’re the most experienced or the least,” Hardison paused, waiting until Parker’s sideways smile told him that she understood what he meant. “Loving Parker is the first time I’ve ever felt truly brave.”

Parker had tears in her eyes, and it was all Hardison could do to keep from wiping them away, to keep from pulling her close, but he had more to say, he had things to promise, so he took another bracing breath.

“Parker,” he said, giving her hands a little squeeze, “I’m not going to lie, loving you has been a challenge. But I’d gladly suffer a thousand times over, if I get to see your smile at the end of the day. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and I can’t really even find the words to say what you mean to me, but know this. There’s no other person I’d ever want to love, no other woman I’d want as the mother of my child. I promise, Parker, that as long as there’s breath in me, you’ll never _ever_ feel unloved again. You will have a family from now on, I swear it, because if there’s anyone who deserves better than they got in life, it’s you. And, finally, Parker, I promise that you’ll always be enough, because your love is the most precious thing I’ve ever stolen.”

The room was still. Even Natasha, as young as she was, stayed small and quiet in Sophie’s arms.

Parker pulled her hands out of Hardison’s to wipe tears from her cheeks.

Hardison’s jaw was clenching, moving back and forth as he wrestled with his own feelings and simultaneously tried to understand Parker’s.

Parker just stared, frozen, until Nate took a half step forward, “Parker,” he said quietly, “It’s time for your vows to Hardison.”

“Right,” Parker nodded once and pivoted, turning around to completely face the guests, crossing her arms over her chest a bit like a moody teenager. “I didn’t tell Alec that I loved him until the day our daughter was born,” she announced to the room. Hardison was taken aback by her almost defiance, as was everyone else, but he waited with the rest of them until she continued.

“That sounds . . .” Parker let out a breath, “That sounds bad, I know, and most people would find something terribly wrong with a girl that lived with a guy, dated him for years, and had a baby with him, but never told him she loved him,” she turned again, facing Hardison. “But you didn’t.” Parker let her arms drop to her sides, “You didn’t think that something was wrong with me, or give up on me, just because those words got stuck in my throat.” A small breath, a glance down at the floor and back up at Hardison, and then, “The first time I tried to tell you, I couldn’t, and I panicked and told you I had feelings for pretzels instead. It amazed me that you could know what I meant, and not only that, but you said okay and you waited. You waited for me to figure myself out, and then you waited again for me to find it in myself to say ‘I love you.’”

Hardison’s hands were reaching out for hers again, and she met him in the middle, linking their fingers between them.

“But I do, Alec,” Parker said earnestly, “I love you. I promise that it’s true, that I only made you wait so I could be sure, so that when I said it, you’d know that there wasn’t any doubt. I didn’t used to put a lot of stock in promises,” her voice softened, “As a kid, they never meant much, just something you said so people did what you want. But these promises are _real_ , because I’m not like that kid anymore,” she took a deep breath, “I promise to trust you, and to listen to what you say. I promise to be there for you, and Natasha, even when it’s hard or I don’t understand. Most of all, Alec,” her voice broke, and the tears were coming again, and she thought she saw a few of them in Hardison’s eyes too, “I promise to _try_ , to try to be what you need me to be, because you’ve already given me everything I’ll ever—” She tried to finish, but the lump in her throat was too painful to speak through, so she just looked in Hardison’s eyes, saw that he understood, and nodded, indicating to Nate that she was done.

“The rings, please?” Nate asked Eliot, who stepped forward and handed them over, ignoring the lump in his own throat.

Hardison took the ring from Nate, and slipped it on Parker’s finger, “With this ring, I pledge all that I am to you, as your husband.”

“And with this ring,” Parker had it on his finger before he felt a thing, “I pledge all that I am to you, as your—” there was a little hitch in her voice as she came to fully understand the words she was saying, “—wife.”

Nate put a hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a little squeeze, “Then I quite happily pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—”

Parker didn’t give him time to finish, flying at Hardison and planting one on him. Hardison barely caught her, and if it wasn’t for Eliot instinctively reaching out and steadying him, they would have both toppled over backwards.

“Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot muttered, rolling his eyes as Parker pulled back and Hardison put her down on her own two feet.

Hardison laughed and Parker tugged at his hand. She pulled him back down the aisle, grinning at everyone in the pews. Hardison was pretty sure that Nate was supposed to say something else before they processed out, but he didn’t really care, because he was married to Parker, and damn did that feel good.


	11. The Reception Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker and Hardison's wedding reception.

Hardison stood in the back of the brew pub, facing the doors into the bar and restaurant, fingering the band on his left hand. The metal was warm, but he still wasn’t used to the weight of it, or the way that it rubbed his fingers, the click that it made when it hit a door handle or the steering wheel, and if he started thinking about the fact that it was there, then he wouldn’t be able to stop feeling it.

He was married.

Parker popped up behind his shoulder, and it was all Hardison could do to keep from jumping. She pressed a kiss onto his neck and came around to stand beside him, tucking herself under his arm.

“You ready?” she asked, looking up at him. She was stunning in her wedding dress. The way her hair fell softly over her shoulders, giving in to its slight natural wave, the way the dress was pulled in at her waist by that green ribbon, accenting her curves, it all took Hardison’s breath away, and suddenly he didn’t care that he had to wear his suit for the rest of the night to match her.

Hardison smiled. “Ready when you are.”

Parker nodded, paused, and then kissed him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling herself up so she was level with him. The arm that had been around her shoulders dropped down to her waist, steadying her, as Hardison had become accustomed to doing, since Parker’s kisses could edge on explosive and include most of her body weight suddenly flung against him.

She remained even with his face for a second after the kiss broke, and then fell back down off her tiptoes. Hardison kept his arm around her waist, watching her still-closed eyes. “Now I’m ready,” she said after a minute, opening her eyes and threading her fingers through his. She pulled him toward the doors.

The brew pub was softly lit with candles and lamps casting their yellow light up to the ceiling. Tables had been moved to create a dance floor, and music was playing, though no one was dancing yet. The bar became a serving table for the Parker-and-Hardison-approved finger foods, bowls of pretzels (both chocolate covered and plain), plates with artfully arranged gummy frogs and other candies, and of course, if one wanted an orange soda, there were several two-liters sitting out by the wines, whiskies, and beers. Eliot and Sophie had balked at the idea of serving only those items; Eliot because it was an insult to his culinary ability, and Sophie because it wasn’t proper for a wedding reception. They’d managed to convince Parker and Hardison to also include an array of Eliot’s hors d'oeuvres, which had already been picked over by the guests.

Their friends and family were scattered in clumps around the room, eating and mingling, but they all turned to look when the newlyweds entered. Hardison glanced over at Parker, who was smiling at the people gathered to celebrate.

Those words of hers, spoken so long ago, when Archie wanted Parker to escape the Steranko, they floated to Hardison’s mind in that moment.

_I couldn’t, but I was alone then. I’m not alone now._

Parker had needed him to remind her in Dubai, when she had to wear the weighted boots and limp, but she’d already known that she wasn’t alone, that they had her back. And here was a room full of people ready to remind her again. If he never accomplished anything else in his life, it wouldn’t matter, because he’d helped Parker find her family, and he could never hope to do anything more meaningful than that.

Parker knocked him from his musings by pulling him further into the room, dragging him to where Sophie was waiting by the bar.

Parker had filled Hardison in on the events of the day during the car ride back to Portland, and he’d taken it much worse than Parker had, spending a large portion of the drive ranting and raving. Luckily, he’d cooled down some, but that didn’t stop him from taking Natasha from Sophie.

“Hey, baby girl, Daddy’s got you,” he said, holding the child close to his chest and pressing several kisses onto her little curls.

“She’s alright,” Sophie huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not like she was ever alone, or in danger.”

Hardison opened his mouth to argue, but Parker slipped up beside him, sliding her hand across his back and distracting him.

“I told him it was okay,” Parker said, also giving Natasha a kiss. The baby yawned widely, and leaned into Hardison’s chest. She was asleep in his arms in next to no time.

Parker’s fingers were still moving on Hardison’s back, becoming more and more persistent, making it harder and harder to ignore her, but then she saw McSweeten standing awkwardly by himself, attempting to eat one of Eliot’s fancier concoctions.

“McSweeten!” Parker called, grabbing Hardison and pulling him over to where the FBI agent was wearing a startled expression and trying to swallow the last of his food.

“H-hey,” McSweeten gulped a sip of his drink to clear his mouth. “Congratulations.”

Parker’s face lit up, “Thanks!”

McSweeten looked at the sleeping Natasha. “I apologize for what happened earlier. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that she was yours.”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Hardison brushed off McSweeten’s apologies, “She’s back where she belongs now, so, no harm no foul.”

“Right,” McSweeten nodded slowly and locked eyes with Hardison, a silent reminder of their earlier conversation.

Parker started scanning the room once again. “Oh! There’s Peggy and Hurley. We better go make sure Hurley’s okay, see if he needs an icepack or something. Tara apparently didn’t hold back,” she gave little malevolent smile at the thought, and then turned back to McSweeten, touching his arm. “Save me a dance?”

McSweeten blinked, and then smiled tightly. “Of course.”

Parker nodded, and headed off towards Peggy and Hurley. Hardison hesitated a second longer, eyes on McSweeten’s face. He really did feel sorry for the guy. Hardison knew what it was like to be hung up on Parker, but at least he’d known that he had a shot. McSweeten had to come to terms with being too late, and Hardison didn’t envy him one bit. He couldn’t think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said though, so he followed his wife.

Parker pulled Peggy in for a hug, and when she released her friend, she surprised everyone by hugging Hurley too. Hurley responded quite enthusiastically, bear-hugging her until her feet lifted off the ground. When he put her back down, she reached up to lightly touch his face, inspecting his brand new black eye and bruise, courtesy of Tara.

“Peggy says it makes me look dangerous,” Hurley said when Parker stepped away.

The look Peggy shot Parker and Hardison indicated that she’d really only said it to lift her boyfriend’s spirits.

“Thank you both for taking such good care of Tasha,” Hardison said rather than comment on whether or not the bruises affected Hurley’s teddy bear appearance, “Even though you didn’t know she’s ours.”

“Of course,” Peggy said, running a finger up and down Natasha’s arm, careful not to wake her up. “She’s a little sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t just going to leave her there,” Hurley scoffed, “She’s a baby!”

They didn’t mention that if he had just left her in the crib, Sophie and Nate would’ve come back shortly and most of the misunderstanding would’ve been avoided.

“I’m sorry that Tara. . .” Hardison gestured to Hurley’s injuries.

Parker had returned to her earlier activity of slipping her fingers in places they shouldn’t go, this time in Hardison’s back pocket.

Hurley shrugged, “I don’t blame her. I’d do anything to protect my k—my friend’s kid, too.”

Peggy’s eyes flicked to Hurley’s face. There was a realization in her expression, like she was figuring something out about Hurley, or about herself, or about the two of them together. “You know,” Peggy said hesitantly, “We could watch Tasha for you while you get your food? Shouldn’t be hard, since she’s asleep.”

Hurley looked surprised, but he was smiling.

“Sure, you know, that’d be super helpful,” Hardison said, picking up on the fact that something was going on between Hurley and Peggy.

Parker managed to procure one of their baby carriers from a nearby table without removing her hand from Hardison’s backside, and Hardison settled Natasha into it, setting it on the table top. Hurley plopped himself into the seat in front of Natasha, propping his head in his hands and grinning at the sleeping baby. Peggy nudged him until he scooted over so she could pull up a chair of her own.

Parker pulled her hand out of Hardison’s pocket and wrapped it around his arm. They headed to the bar together, where Eliot was waiting to serve them a plate.

“I don’t care what you say,” Eliot said before they could even greet him, “You’re going to eat more than just that junk you made me put out.”

“Pretzels aren’t junk,” Parker said, popping one in her mouth and grabbing another and offering it to Hardison.

He took the pretzel from her and she looked at him expectantly until he ate it. Eliot made them each a plate with a moderate amount of both their favorites and his hors d’oeuvres.

“Thanks, Eliot,” Parker said, and it was obvious she was thanking him for more than the food.

Eliot had never explicitly said it, but his grumps and grumbles whenever anyone else tried to plan the reception made it clear that he considered taking over the food and entertainment to be his wedding gift to Parker and Hardison.

Parker let go of Hardison to grab her food. (He hadn’t even noticed that her fingers had been twisted in his belt loops until her hand disappeared, but he _was_ starting to notice a pattern here).

They returned to the table where their friends were waiting with Natasha. Peggy and Hurley reluctantly gave up the table, and the way they were looking at each other and at the baby made Hardison decide that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that the two of them were rethinking their stance on having kids of their own.

Hardison took the side of the table that Hurley and Peggy had been on, the side that Natasha’s carrier was facing. Parker sat across from him, munching on a couple pretzels.

Hardison was about to start on the ‘Eliot’ side of his plate when he felt a foot nudge his shins. He looked up at Parker, who was quite innocently organizing the food on her plate into ‘will eat,’ ‘won’t eat,’ and ‘will make Hardison eat first’ piles. He’d decided that it must have been an accident and turned back to his food when he felt it again, only this time she was very deliberately running her foot up and down his leg.

“Parker,” Hardison said, trying to knock her foot off his leg with his other foot, but that only seemed to encourage her.

“Yeah?” she asked with those big innocent eyes and launched a two-pronged attack, dragging one foot down his leg as a distraction while the other slipped up much higher than anything should probably ever go in a public setting, all without dropping that irreproachable expression from her face.

“ _Parker!”_ Hardison said again, using his hands to push her foot away. “Anyone out on that dance floor can see under this table.”

Parker shrugged, and went back to eating, tucking her feet under her. She still hadn’t acknowledged her game, but Hardison knew that she was aware that he’d caught on. That was fine, though, because she kept her hands (and her feet!) to herself until they’d both almost finished eating, when she abruptly stood up and moved around the table to sit in the chair next to him.

She’d barely been in the seat a second before her hand came to rest on his thigh.

“What—what are you doing?” Hardison asked. It wasn’t that he wanted Parker to stop touching him, it was just that they were in a room surrounded by their family and friends and he was pretty sure that none of them wanted to see him act on the things that went through his head whenever he felt Parker’s fingers press against him.

“I wanted to sit where I could see Tasha,” Parker picked up the last thing on her plate, some kind of mushroom stuffed with spinach that she’d placed on the end of her ‘do I really want to eat this?’ spectrum.

“Right,” Hardison said, watching Parker carefully as she took a hesitant bite of the mushroom, made a face, and put the remainder of it on Hardison’s plate.

And then that hand that on his thigh squeezed, and inched a little higher.

“Dammit, woman,” Hardison whispered, “Come on now, I told you—”

Parker looked up at him, and grinned mischievously, finally dropping the innocent act.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that they were surrounded by people. Hardison leaned forward, itching to kiss that perfect little smirk—

“Alec Hardison!”

Hardison jerked backwards, an automatic reflex to hearing that particular tone coming from the woman that’d raised him. Nana was standing next to their table, expectant look on her face.

“Ma’am?” Hardison hastily scooted away from Parker and knocked her hand off his leg.

Parker was trying very hard not to laugh at his panic, but she kept her hands in her lap as Hardison stood to greet Nana.

“When were you planning on introducing me to my granddaughter?” Nana asked as Hardison hugged her.

“Uh,” Hardison fumbled, still flustered from Parker’s attentions, “Well, she’s asleep now, but—” he gestured to the carrier on the table. Parker watched the exchange with raised eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

Natasha didn’t stir as Nana approached, leaning over her and brushing a finger down her chubby little cheek.

“I’m proud of you both,” Nana said, looking at Parker first and then at her foster son. “You’ve made yourself a better family here than most people are born into.”

Hardison blinked and nodded, unable to find words.

Nana could tell that he was struggling, so all she said was, “Sophie asked me to come tell you that they’re ready to start the dancing and toasts if y’all are finished eating, and my old bones aren’t good for dancing, so I’ll sit here with Natasha if you’d like.”

“Great,” Parker smiled at her mother-in-law like she hadn’t been conspiring to drive Hardison crazy only two seconds ago, “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Nana.” She stood.

“Of course, dear,” Nana took Parker’s seat, gently pulling Natasha’s carrier closer to her.

Hardison put his arm around Parker and they headed over to where Eliot and Sophie were standing next to the bar. They’d almost reached them when Hardison felt Parker’s cold fingers against his skin, slipping under the edge of his shirt. He jumped, because for some reason he hadn’t expected Parker to start up again as soon as they were away from Nana.

He should have taken into account that he married a thief, someone who’s job it was to stick their hands places they shouldn’t go, pockets, purses, safes, and the occasional article of clothing. Not only that, but he’d married the best thief in the world, so it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that Parker was _exceptionally_ good at using those dirty little thief tricks to drive him to distraction.

This time, instead of trying to remove her hand (because not only was she good at getting her hands into places, she was just as good at making sure no one noticed), he pulled her closer and kissed her temple.

“I love you, mama,” he said into her skin.

Parker smiled, eyes closing briefly, “Love you, too.”

Sophie’s voice broke their moment, “There they are!” She stepped forward and grabbed their hands, pulling them the rest of the way to the bar, “We’ve been waiting on you to finish eating so we can get on with the dancing.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize we were supposed to rush,” Hardison grumbled, and Parker rolled her eyes.

Sophie ignored him, “You ready for the first dance?” she asked.

Parker and Hardison looked at each other. “You know,” Hardison said, “We were never really told the specifics of the dancing. I wasn’t even sure we were doing a first dance, since you and Eliot kept the reception-planning cards close to your vests.”

“Pssh,” Sophie waved that off, “Of course you’re doing a first dance. There’s always a first dance.”

Hardison looked to Parker, and she shrugged. Neither of them had practiced dancing because they’d been preoccupied with jobs, wedding planning, and a six-month-old, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t danced before.

“Okay,” Hardison said to Sophie, who turned and shot a thumbs-up at Eliot.

Eliot was sitting on one of the barstools with a guitar and microphone that Hardison had somehow not seen him set up (which honestly wasn’t that surprising considering Parker’s crusade to distract him). “Hey, everyone,” Eliot said into the microphone, and a spotlight—when did they get a spotlight?—flicked on, lighting up the hitter. A second later another spotlight illuminated Parker and Hardison.

Great. Not only was he dancing his first dance without practice, but also while being blinded.

“For those of you that I haven’t met officially, I’m Eliot,” Eliot smiled at the guests as if he could see them even though the spotlight reduced everyone to shadows fluttering in the edges of the room. “I’m the best man, which means I’m supposed to speak from Hardison’s side of this, but I like to think I know Parker just as well. They’ve been through some rough stuff, both of ‘em, and I’m glad they found each other. I can’t think of anyone in the world who’d put up with Hardison the way that Parker does.”

People chuckled, especially Hardison’s foster siblings.

“Anyway,” Eliot leaned back on his barstool a little and looked right at Parker, “Parker—I think of her as my little sister, and I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t absolutely mean it—I could never think of someone better for her than Hardison. So,” Eliot strummed a few chords on his guitar, “This is for the two of you. Have a nice dance, and a great life, and thanks for dragging me along on the ride.”

Hardison, not sure what else to do, took Parker’s hand and led her out into the middle of the room. The spotlight followed their movements.

Eliot began to sing something that sounded old, that Hardison didn’t recognize. It didn’t matter, though, because he was focused on the woman in his arms. Parker wasn’t standing on his toes this time, or hanging from the ceiling. She was on even terms with him, on her own two feet, just as in control as he was.

Parker didn’t need him to take the lead anymore, even as he spun her around the floor, didn’t need him to guide her through the world of emotions and dating and family, even as she followed his steps to the beat.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

And now she knew that she’d never be alone again.

 

~o0o~

 

Unlike Hardison, Parker wasn’t thinking about how she had a family. At least, not directly. She was much more focused on Eliot’s smooth voice, on where to place her feet, on Hardison’s hand steady and strong at her waist, and on the band on his finger twined with hers. She caught glimpses of Sophie’s shining face and Nate’s proud eyes as she turned, saw Nana with Natasha, Archie in a shadowed corner, other friends smiling.

She wasn’t thinking about being surrounded by family, at least not in the way that Hardison was. But she felt them. She felt them as sure as her wedding ring, as sure as her stretchmarks, as sure as the knowledge that it takes twelve uninterrupted seconds to pick a standard door lock and about two minutes to crack a base model Glen-Reeder safe.

Parker and Hardison didn’t speak, partly because Hardison was preoccupied by not looking like a double-left-footed fool in front of his family and friends, but also because neither of them had anything to say that could compete with what they were already feeling.

Eliot held out a final long note to end the song, and applause from the guests broke the spell.

Hardison gave Parker a quick kiss before he let her go.

After the first dance, Hardison danced with Sophie and Nate with Parker, and then Parker danced with Eliot and Hardison took a turn with Nana (both Eliot and Nana belying their previous statements by being excellent dancers). After that, Sophie forced Eliot into a best man/maids of honor dance between the two of them and Natasha. It involved overly complicated steps and passing the sleepy baby back and forth between them and finished with Eliot dipping Sophie with one hand and holding Natasha aloft with the other. Needless to say, Eliot wasn’t very thrilled about it, and the others weren’t ruling out neurolinguistics programing as the reason he’d agreed to do it in the first place.

It wasn’t until after other couples had been invited to the floor that Archie stepped forward and asked for a dance with the bride. Parker had looked to him when Hardison danced with Nana, but he’d declined her gaze, so she’d pulled Eliot on the floor instead. That didn’t mean she didn’t want a dance with Archie, or him with her, but she suspected he hadn’t wanted to intrude on the planned dances.

“You look stunning, kiddo,” Archie said as he led her into the middle of the room.

Parker smiled, ducking her head as the music started. “I’m glad you came,” she said.

“Of course,” Archie twirled her around, “I had to come see you marry your young man, and meet my granddaughter.”

“He’s not ‘my young man,’” Parker said quietly, but with intensity, “His name is Alec. Alec Hardison.”

Archie paused, considering, and then nodded slowly, “You’re right. I apologize.”

Parker nodded, but didn’t say anything else about it. They danced in silence for a minute, and then Archie spoke up again.

“Parker,” he said, “I’ve been meaning to say this and now is as good a time as any—”

“Archie,” Parker cut in with a warning shake of her head.

“No, let me speak Parker,” Archie looked down at their feet, which were still moving to the music, but only Archie’s prowess as a dancer kept them from tripping up, “I spend a lot of time wondering these days, as old men do, and my biggest regret—”

Parker interrupted again, “It wouldn’t have worked—”

“Parker!” Archie said sharply, “You will let me finish.”

Parker’s eyes dropped to the floor, “Yes, sir.”

“You needed a family, and I knew it,” Archie said, his eyes boring into Parker’s, “but I ignored that voice in my head telling me that I should take you home,” he faltered in his dancing briefly, and then picked up his pace to make up for it, “And the longer I waited the easier it was to convince myself that you were fine with the way things were, to bolster myself up because I was creating something great for posterity, because at least I took you in and trained you.” He sighed, “Your Nate was right, though, to yell at me the way he did during the whole Wakefield business. I was wrong.”

Parker huffed, “What would have happened if you’d taken me home, huh, Archie?” she managed to give a frustrated stomp of her foot without breaking step. “Your family didn’t know what you did. How would you have explained me? They’d’ve found out. And your wife and kids didn’t need to deal with me and my issues. It wouldn’t have been fair to them, and honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted to live in that home any more than with any of my other foster families. I didn’t want normal. Besides, if you—” Parker took a deep breath, “If you hadn’t raised me the way you did, I wouldn’t be the way I am, and I’d never have ended up with the family I have now.”

Archie looked surprised, and finally stopped dancing. He let his arms fall to his side.

“So,” Parker blew out a breath, “Don’t apologize, because I forgave you a long time ago.”

Archie nodded slowly, and cleared his throat. There were tears in his eyes. “Well,” he said finally, “Now that that’s settled, I don’t think it’s a conversation we need to return to, right, kiddo?”

Parker nodded her agreement as the song ended. “I promised a few other people a dance,” she said after an awkward second, “So, I better . . .”

“Of course, go,” Archie smiled. “I’ll be around, and later you’d better introduce me to that granddaughter of mine.”

Parker smiled, gave Archie an abrupt hug, and locked eyes with McSweeten across the room. She left Archie behind and had McSweeten out on the dance floor in no time. Archie chuckled and watched the FBI agent clumsily try to lead Parker around the floor. She was right about one thing, she’d turned out to be perfect in the eyes of those that loved her, and that was really all that mattered.

Later, after Sophie’s tear-jerking toast and the cutting of the cake which they did with Natasha between them since the little girl woke up enough to try her first taste of icing (her reaction was enough to convince Hardison that Tasha inherited Parker’s sweet tooth), Parker and Hardison were rotating slowly on the dance floor, her face pressed against his neck, nose cold on his skin.

Natasha had been put to bed upstairs shortly after her cake experience, with her baby monitor hooked to Sophie and Nate’s coms so they’d know if she needed them. Sophie and Nate were dancing next to them, as was Peggy and Hurley, Eliot and Tara, and (surprisingly) Amy and McSweeten. Beck, Hardison’s foster brother, was trying to teach his foster sister Julie how to dance, but neither of them really knew what they were doing.

Parker wasn’t paying attention to any of them, though, because people weren’t staring at the newlyweds anymore, so she could let her lips find Hardison’s neck as much as she liked. It’d been fun to drive him crazy all night, especially since they were in a place where he couldn’t do much about it (that was one of her favorite games, usually played in the form of whispering naughty things in his ear through the coms during jobs when he had to pretend he couldn’t hear her) but Parker was ready to kick everybody out and take this thing upstairs.

They’d decided against a ‘real’ honeymoon, since they didn’t want to leave Natasha for too long, so they were staying home and sending Natasha to Nate and Sophie’s for the night. Nate, the only one with experience with caring for an infant, had joked that they were probably so tired they’d need to use their wedding night to catch up on sleep, but thankfully Natasha had already begun sleeping through the night (if waking up at 4am was considered ‘through the night’) so they’d been getting enough. Besides, with the way things were going tonight, Parker didn’t think they had to worry about being sleepy.

Hardison apparently had the same thoughts running through his mind. “You about ready to get out of here?”

Parker leaned back to look at him, frowning, “Get out? I thought we were staying in. Did you get a hotel?”

A slow grin spread over Hardison’s face, “Nope. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Parker stopped moving (she could hardly call what they’d been doing dancing). “What do you mean?”

Hardison ran his hands up and down her arms, which were still around his neck. “I may have planned a weekend honeymoon getaway.” Parker’s hands, linked behind his head, went up and down as Hardison shrugged. “It’s nothing fancy, I just figured we deserve something more than our apartment, just for a few nights.”

“A few?” Parker pulled her arms off of Hardison’s shoulders. “What about Natasha?”

Sophie and Nate noticed their conversation and stopped dancing. “We’re going to watch her all weekend instead of just tonight,” Sophie said, “Hardison already asked us. Consider it our wedding present, since you wouldn’t let us buy you that villa.”

“You’re going to watch her?” Parker’s eyebrows shot up, “You _lost_ her today!” Never mind that Parker had been perfectly happy with Sophie and Nate babysitting when it’d only been one night. But a weekend was different. She’d never been away from Tasha for that long.

“Parker,” Hardison said softly, taking her hand. She didn’t pull away, but she wasn’t convinced either, and he knew it. “We’ve got enough milk stockpiled to last a week, and we should have everything else they might need here. If we’re missing something they can go to the store and buy it. Tasha will be fine.”

 _They can’t buy Tasha her mother if she needs me_ , Parker thought mutinously.

Sophie, Nate, and Hardison were all watching her. She blew out a puff of air, ruffling her bangs.

“If it makes you that uncomfortable, we can go back to our original plan,” Hardison said, squeezing her hand. “I can cancel, no problem.”

Parker took a deep breath.

Hardison had planned a honeymoon.

He’d planned it special, for her.

Hardison had always been the more traditionally romantic one, more into dinner dates and showing her off at clubs and parties than he was into her high-adventure nights out. Even if this honeymoon was the most cliché and overdone thing to ever exist (which Parker doubted), he’d still taken the time to plan it and hide it from her. How could she make him cancel it all?

“Just the weekend?” she asked.

Hardison nodded, “Spend tonight and tomorrow night there and come back Sunday morning.”

Parker bit her lip, “Okay, but—”

“I’ve already set it up so we can be back in two and a half hours if we need to be,” Hardison anticipated her question, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Two and a half hours seemed like an awfully long time if Natasha needed them, but Parker trusted Nate and Sophie (and Eliot) to keep Tasha safe while they were gone.

“Okay,” Parker said, with more conviction this time. She smiled at Hardison, her earlier thoughts returning. “Where are we going?” She swung their entwined hands between them.

“Not telling,” Hardison said, “But we should probably get a move on pretty soon.”

“Hey, everyone!” Sophie yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Let’s give these two a proper send off, shall we?”

The guests cheered, and pulled out the cups of rice that Eliot had secretly distributed while the couple was dancing.

Hardison laughed and pulled Parker towards the door. Parker wasn’t quite up to date on wedding traditions, but she was pretty sure that the people were supposed to throw the rice _outside_. Hurley, however, had not gotten the message, and decided to lob all of his rice at Hardison as the hacker passed him on the dance floor, which set off a chain reaction of everyone showering them with rice inside the brew pub.

On the way out, Parker caught a glimpse of Eliot’s face as he surveyed the rice-covered floor that _someone_ would have to sweep tonight after the guests left. She didn’t have time to feel bad, though, because Hardison was pulling her in for one final kiss in the doorway, and then they were out the door and in the car, driving off to . . . around the block, so they could sneak in the back door of the brew pub and up to the apartment to say goodbye to Natasha, change clothes, and grab the bags that Hardison already had packed, and _then_ head out for real this time.

Parker had done what she’d never thought she’d get the chance to do, what she’d never really wanted to do until she met Alec, but she’d done it and it was a wonderful feeling.

She had a real name now.

Mrs. Parker Hardison.

Didn’t it sound perfect?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add that the reason I didn't specify what song Eliot sang for the first dance was because that's one of those things that everyone has opinions about, and I don't really like to include songs/lyrics in my fics anyway, plus I only listen to country music, which most people don't like. I do have a few songs that make me think of them, though, so I figured I'd jump in here and share them, in case y'all cared/were curious.  
> "I Swear" -John Michael Montgomery (good first dance song)  
> "The One" -Gary Allan  
> "She's a Girl" -Rodney Atkins (this one especially makes me think of Eliot talking to Hardison about Parker and Natasha)  
> "Makin' Plans" Miranda Lambert (from Parker's point of view, especially everything after the first verse)  
> "Feel that Fire" Dierks Bentley (not for a first dance, but I think of them every time I hear it)
> 
> These are just off the top of my head. If y'all have any songs that make you think of Parker and Hardison, I'd love to hear them! :-)


	12. The Honeymoon Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardison surprises Parker with a honeymoon.

Parker looked out the car window, watching the streetlights flash and disappear behind them. Hardison was driving, humming along to whatever was on the radio. Her eyes skipped over to her husband, who was frankly more interesting to watch than the twilight outside. His humming turned to mumbled lyrics as his head bobbed back and forth to the beat, movements illuminated by the inconsistent lights of the Portland streets.

She liked to see him happy.

Whether by some sense of her gaze or just an urge to check on his mostly silent bride, Hardison glanced over to the passenger seat, pausing his dancing.

Parker spoke up before he could ask her if something was wrong because she didn’t want him to mistake her silence for discomfort. “Are we driving the whole way?” she asked, sitting up straighter and calculating all the various possible destinations two and a half hours away from Portland in the direction they’d been traveling.

Hardison chuckled, “We are driving an amount of the distance that shall remain undisclosed.”

Parker bit back a smile, aware that the airport was up ahead, “Flying, then.”

Hardison shook his head ruefully, flicking the turn signal, “See, girl, that’s why a less persistent man would have given up on trying to surprise you a long time ago.”

He’d only meant that Parker was unusually good at guessing surprises, but as Hardison turned onto the road that led to the airport, Parker felt a little pinch, deep in her gut, at his words.

She reached over and grabbed his hand off the steering wheel, linking their fingers and pulling his knuckles to her lips. “Patient,” she said, “You mean a less patient man would’ve given up.”

“Parker,” Hardison said her name quietly, like he was tired, or sad. But then he smiled, a gentle smile that barely broke his face, and stopped at a red light. He took the opportunity to face her and run the backs of his fingers along her cheek. She leaned into his touch. “Patient, persistent, it’s all the same,” he shrugged, “I did it because I love you, same reason I do most things. And I’m nothing special, I just did what any guy should’ve, and treated you the way you deserved.”

Hardison’s face was cast in the red glow of the stoplight. Parker simply looked at him. He _was_ special, but this was one of those conversations that he wouldn’t let her have. He didn’t want her to show her appreciation for something that he thought of as the right thing to do, but Parker knew that doing the right thing—even merely knowing what the right thing was—isn’t a quality that should ever be taken for granted. She didn’t want to take Hardison for granted, because she knew that she’d ended up far better off than most, with a man that knew what love was, and gave it to her and their daughter without expecting anything in return. Without Alec, she’d still be lost.

The light turned green.

Hardison held her gaze a moment longer, and then faced forward again. He let her keep ahold of his hand.

“Alec,” Parker said after a minute of silence, “Are we sure about this? We could always go get Natasha, take her with us—”

“On our honeymoon?” Hardison asked, raising an eyebrow, “You really think that when she’s older she’s gonna want to hear how she accompanied her parents on their _honeymoon_?”

Parker sighed, “I guess not.”

“Hey,” Hardison said gentler, “Leaving her makes me uneasy, too. But we trust Sophie and Nate, and we deserve some time to ourselves. This is probably the first time we’ve been alone since she was born.”

Parker looked out the window again, keeping a grip on Hardison’s hand, “I know. I don’t want to go get her, I just—What if she needs us?”

“Then Sophie will call, and we’ll come back for her,” Hardison said. “Okay?”

Parker nodded.

“Look, mama, that goes both ways,” Hardison squeezed her hand, glancing between her and traffic, “You decide you need to be with her, and we’ll go straight home.”

Parker nodded again, meeting his eyes this time. “Okay.”

Neither of them spoke until they were in the parking lot, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet, more like the city air right before it rains, expectant and heavy.

“You have any more guesses as to our destination?” Hardison asked, pulling their bags out of the trunk of the car. He threw Parker’s duffel over his shoulder and extended the handle on his rolling suitcase.

Parker cocked her head to the side, considering. If the flight was two and a half hours, that kept possible destinations in the western United States or parts of Canada. Using what she knew about Hardison, she could narrow that list down to places that he’d consider taking her. But how could he ensure that it would be no more than two and a half hours no matter what? There’s no way that there’s a flight to Portland available at any time they could need it, unless—

If that was the case, he was already forking over a ton of money for this honeymoon. And if he was already forking over a ton of money, then it was likely he wouldn’t be skimping once they got where they were going. That said, she doubted he picked anywhere that would be full of people, like a hotel or resort type venue. The place with the _most_ privacy would be a property that he already owns, which left only a few places, and . . . _click_.

Parker knew where they were going.

But she wouldn’t tell Hardison that. He’d worked too hard to keep it a secret for her to burst his bubble. (Sometimes it was fun to burst his bubble, especially when she made it up to him later, but this time was obviously much more important to him).

Parker shrugged, “Not going to guess, in case I’m wrong.”

Hardison grinned, apparently taking that to mean she hadn’t figured it out. He started toward the airport entrance, but Parker grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. “What?” he asked, frowning at her.

Parker held out her hand for her duffel bag, opening and closing her fingers over her palm in a ‘hand it over’ gesture.

“I got the bags, mama,” Hardison protested, shaking his head. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Parker raised her eyebrows at him and put the hand that wasn’t outstretched on her hip. She shifted her stance slightly to let him know she wasn’t moving until he gave her the bag.

Hardison sighed and relinquished the duffel.

Parker smiled brightly and grabbed Hardison’s now-free hand. She pulled it over her shoulder so that she was tucked beneath his arm.

“All that so I’d put my arm around you?” Hardison asked as they headed for the automatic doors.

“Why else?” Parker countered, a hint of mischief in her eyes. She kissed his cheek.

Hardison rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as they headed for security.

Unsurprisingly to Parker, after security Hardison led her to a separate wing of the airport, where other patrons didn’t go. There was a man in a suit and white gloves waiting to take their bags, and no one else around.

“A private plane,” Parker said as they stepped out onto the tarmac, where a midsized private jet was fueled and ready for them. She’d already figured out that that was what he’d done, but she bit back her knowing smirk.

Hardison took her statement as a question. “Nothing but the best for Mrs. Hardison,” he said smugly, drawing her even closer to him now that they were free of their bags.

Parker smiled at the use of her new name and rested her head on his chest briefly. Then she made a beeline for the plane, dragging Hardison along behind her.

They were barely aboard the plane a second before Parker pulled her sweatshirt over her head, making Hardison’s eyes bulge until he realized she was wearing a tank top beneath it. The sweatshirt was one that she’d stolen from Hardison a long time ago, probably even before they were dating, but she honestly couldn’t remember. Her tank top was black, low-cut, with a back that crisscrossed enough to show off hints of her lacy black bra. The bra was new, one of the purchases that Sophie had insisted on. Parker didn’t think that it mattered if her bra was new or not, since she knew Hardison liked her in all her various forms of underwear (plus it was just going to end up on the floor anyway, so what’s the difference?) but Sophie said it was the principle of the thing, so Parker had folded and gotten it.

The Portland night chill that forced her to grab the sweatshirt also made pants the prudent choice, thankfully, since other than con clothes she mostly owned only jeans anyway.

Hardison, on the other hand, had dressed completely for comfort. (Sophie didn’t make _him_ get any stupid new underwear!) Which wasn’t to say that he wasn’t attractive as hell in his t-shirt and jeans.

Parker had never really found men attractive before, at least not the way she did Hardison. (She supposed that was a good thing, since they were married and all, but it still confused her sometimes to think about it). She hadn’t had very many opportunities for ‘girl talk’ when she was a teenager, since the crews she ran with before Archie were mostly male and it wasn’t like Archie himself knew what to do with Parker’s female side, anyway. However, on the rare occasions that she did find herself in the presence of girls her age, and the subject of boys came up, she was always perplexed by the way they would swoon or sigh over someone because he had a boy-band face or a swimmer’s body. If Parker tried, she could determine whether or not she found someone attractive, but rating men on their appearance simply wasn’t the first thought in her head. It was at best a slightly amusing waste of time, and at worst a dangerous distraction. So, she assessed men (and women) on their threat level instead, and that was that.

Until Alec. It was those stupid arms of his that got her in the beginning. She couldn’t help but notice them, bulging under his Star Wars t-shirts, just sitting there mocking her when he typed on his computers, flexing slightly when he touched his chin every 2.5 minutes, and looking damn good when he hacked history. And it wasn’t just the muscles, either, because Eliot had muscles too, Parker knew plenty of people with muscles, so what was so special about Hardison’s? Why the hell did he need arms like that, anyway? He barely even used them. He didn’t fight, at least not often or very well, and it’s not like typing or video gaming required anything other than finger strength. It was a mystery that Parker could not solve, not for years.

(Maybe it was because she knew what it felt like to be in those arms, that it felt like home wrapping itself around her and holding on tight. Maybe that was it, but at the time Parker would never have admitted it to herself.)

Regardless, Parker paying attention to Hardison’s arms led to Parker paying attention to Hardison’s chest and other muscles, and then to his face, his smile, his eyes until she was studying every inch of him, and it certainly wasn’t because he seemed like a threat. (It’d been a small comfort that she was good at hiding her observations, at least). Even after they were dating, it had taken Parker a while to get used to the idea that she could freely admit to her attraction, but like most things with Parker, it was very binary, so once she felt she could reveal it, she did reveal it, anytime and anywhere the mood stuck her, which was both very exciting for Hardison, but also very problematic.

At least on a private plane, she wouldn’t have to be so discreet.

“Where would you like to sit, mama?” Hardison spread his arms wide, “Because we’ve got the whole plane.”

He was obviously very proud of the plane, and Parker found his enthusiasm cute. (That was another adjective she hadn’t been used to connecting with people, but there was no other word to describe that man ranting about CGI Yoda or geeking-out over cooking with lasers. He was just cute, pure and simple.)

Part of the plane had normal airplane seats, albeit very large and comfortable looking ones. Closer to the front of the plane was a section with a table flanked sandwiched between two rows of seats, the front most facing backwards to provide access to the table. Parker pulled Hardison over there, shoving him into the forward-facing row so he was by the window and then sitting down next to him. She put her sweatshirt down on the table.

“So, how’d you get the plane?” Parker asked, partly because she was curious and partly because she knew that Hardison wanted to brag a little.

“Age of the geek, girl,” he grinned, putting his arm around her shoulder, “Plus, a lot of money. Like, an ungodly amount of money, especially to keep them on standby all weekend so we can get straight home if we need to.”

Parker put up the armrest between their seats and leaned into Hardison. He kissed the top of her head.

A flight attendant, also wearing a suit and white gloves, approached them, stopping next to their seats and addressing Hardison. “Sir, we’re ready for takeoff, but I’m going to have to ask that you buckle your seat belts until we reach cruising altitude,” he said.

“Of course,” Hardison nudged Parker until she sat up and buckled. “Thank you.”

The flight attendant nodded, “Of course, sir. We’ll take off shortly.”

Despite the seatbelt, Parker managed to finagle herself over into Hardison’s arms, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world. During the plane’s ascent, she told him about her conversation with Archie. Hardison hadn’t really spoken to Archie very much, but he had noticed that there’d been a slight change in demeanor when Parker introduced Archie to Natasha.

“I’m proud of you,” Hardison said, running his fingers along Parker’s arm.

Parker sat up straight. “Why?”

Hardison shrugged, “A lot of reasons. There was a time when you wouldn’t have been able to handle something like that reception, but you were perfect.”

“Oh,” Parker looked down, “Yeah.” She smiled a little, “I’m proud of me, too.”

The plane’s intercom dinged, and then a crackly voice announced that they’d reached cruising altitude and were free to move about the cabin.

Parker immediately unbuckled her seatbelt and scampered closer to Hardison, pressing against his side and resting her head in the crook of his neck. Hardison chuckled and unbuckled his own seatbelt, which Parker was kind enough to help him move out of the way. He reclined the seat part of the way back, drawing lazy circles on Parker’s spine with his fingertips, and she sighed softly.

“Sir,” the flight attendant returned, but Parker didn’t bother turning to look at him. “We have those items you requested.”

“Oh, uh, great,” Hardison said, “Bring ‘em on, then.”

The flight attendant nodded, and turned on his heel, back toward the front of the plane.

Hardison was pretty sure he looked like one of those rich good-for-nothings that Leverage took down, reclining on a private plane, a sexy woman practically in his lap, being waited on hand and foot by a butler/flight attendant, but he really didn’t care because the sexy woman was his wife, and he’d paid hand over fist for the plane and the service. Anyone that wanted to say anything could take their judge-y attitude on somewhere.

The flight attendant returned a minute later with the chocolates and drinks that Hardison had asked for when he’d booked the plane. He sat them on the table in front of Hardison and Parker and left without a word.

“You want some chocolate, babe?” Hardison asked, sitting up slightly and reaching for the box.

“Mmmhmm,” Parker mumbled, pressing a slow kiss onto Hardison’s neck.

Hardison smiled, chuckling a little, and took a piece out of the box. He leaned back and offered it to her, and she ate it off his fingertips without lifting her head.

Parker jerked upright, warmth disappearing from Hardison’s chest. She pulled the chocolate box closer, inspecting it briefly and then shoving another piece in her mouth. “This is the chocolate from that festival,” she said, swallowing.

Hardison shrugged, looking up at her, “You said it was the best you’d ever tasted.”

Parker blinked, surprised that he’d remembered and then gone to the trouble to track it down. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she said quietly. “What we said we’d do, staying home, that would’ve been just fine.”

“I know,” Hardison reached up and played with the ends of her blonde waves. “But, hey, if you think the chocolate’s something, just wait until we land.”

Parker smiled, and lay back down on top of her husband, bringing the box of chocolates with her. She’d figured out where they were going, but that didn’t mean that she knew what Hardison had planned at their destination. Parker’s tank top had pulled up at her hip, and Hardison ran his thumb over her exposed skin. She held out one of the chocolates to him but before he could take it from her she leaned up and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

When they pulled apart, Parker looked down at the chocolate that she was still holding between her thumb and index finger. “Your chocolate melted a little,” she said.

“I see that,” Hardison started to say more, but Parker quite unceremoniously shoved the candy in his open mouth.

She smiled when he let out a surprised cough, and licked the melted chocolate off her fingers like a child.

Hardison finally swallowed the last of the chocolate, which had gotten sticky and coated the back of his mouth.

Parker grinned, and her eyes widened in that slightly manic way that Hardison knew all too well. “Now you’ll taste like chocolate!” she said, and pulled him in for the first of a long string of kisses that did, at least, make the rest of the flight pass by in no time at all.

 

~o0o~

 

Hardison paid the taxi driver, and turned to face his wife. The cab pulled away, leaving the two of them alone. Parker was facing up the driveway, duffel bag over her shoulder, and she didn’t look nearly as impressed as she should have.

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” Hardison asked, rolling his suitcase up beside her.

Parker glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, holding back a smirk. She nodded.

Hardison sighed, “Of course you did. When did you know I was bringing you here? Wait! I actually don’t want to know the answer to that.”

Parker smiled and grabbed his hand. “It’s really nice,” she said.

They started walking toward the magnificent house in front of them. After the team left Los Angeles, Hardison held onto the MC Hammer house, first because he got too busy setting up in Boston to sell it, and then because he liked the idea of having a property on the West Coast. He started fixing it up around the time they made the move to Portland, figuring that it would make a nice vacation home if they ever wanted to make a trip down to LA. After things got more serious with Parker (and especially after Natasha happened), Hardison got a lot more active in the overhaul of the property. It was part back-up plan in case they had to flee, part retirement home in case raising Tasha and doing the job got to be too much, and (currently) part honeymoon destination.

Parker started sprinting up the steps ahead of him.

“Hey!” Hardison hurried to keep up to her, “Wait, Parker.”

Parker paused in front of the door, twirling around. She raised her eyebrows, “What? Is there a security system or something?”

Hardison chuckled, “Yes, there is, but that’s not why you should wait.” He took her bag off her shoulder and sat it on the front step next to his suitcase.

Parker frowned at him.

“Come on, girl,” Hardison said, “Newlyweds? Threshold?” He gestured between the two of them and then to the door. “I’m supposed to carry you through the door.”

“Oh,” Parker shrugged, and barely gave Hardison time to react, jumping into his arms.

He caught her, because he was half-expecting that response, but it took a slight amount of adjusting before he was holding her bridal style. (It helped that it was far from the first time that Parker had used Hardison as her own personal jungle gym).

Parker looked around from her new perspective, swinging her feet a little bit, which didn’t help Hardison’s grip. “I like this,” she said, “We should do a heist this way.”

“You want me to carry you through an entire heist?” Hardison asked, shaking his head and moving closer to the door. “And you aren’t worried I’d drop you somewhere during the inevitable sneaking or running, both of which are hard enough without having to carry another human being?”

Parker shrugged and, since Hardison’s hands were full, began to pick the lock on the door (Hardison had the key, but this was just as fast as trying to pull it out of his pocket). “It’d be payback for the trust fall exercise.”

“Fair point,” Hardison said as Parker got the door open. He took a deep breath and stepped into the dark house.

Parker glanced around like she expected something miraculous to happen when he carried her through the door, but of course nothing changed. She shrugged, and hopped out of his arms.

Even Hardison had to admit that was rather anti-climactic. (Note to self: Next time you plan a romantic trip, have the cleaning lady set up candles or rose petals or something). He grabbed the bags from the front steps, closed the door, and flicked on the entryway light. When he turned back around, Parker was watching him, arms behind her back, small smile on her face, blonde hair cutting a sharp figure against the dark rooms and her black tank top.

Hardison dropped the bags and crossed the distance between them in a second, hands finding her hip and her face. Parker was ready for him, leaning up to meet his lips, her arm slipping around his neck. Despite the momentum, the kiss was slow, controlled, both a continuation of their kisses on the plane and a much more intentional expression of the things they held back up in the air. The way their hands rushed to touch, to caress, to slide under shirts and across skin, the way their eyes closed but their jaws remained firm and strong, the way their breathing grew more and more labored, their hearts pounding out a heavy cadence, it all implied a desperation, a hunger, but that’s not what they were feeling. No, they weren’t desperate. They needed each other, but they weren’t in a hurry. Now, more than ever, they knew they had all the time in the world.

All the time in the world does not necessarily mean all the oxygen in the world. Parker pulled away first, using her arm around his shoulder for support as she reoriented herself.

“So,” Parker gulped in a breath, “The David statue house.”

“Yeah,” Hardison nodded, forehead still pressed against Parker’s. He didn’t say anything else, watching Parker’s chest rise and fall in a regular rhythm until her breathing evened out. Words couldn’t describe how much he enjoyed having that ability, even if he knew that kissing _anybody_ can leave you breathless simply because of the nature of the activity, but it didn’t matter because stab-a-guy-with-a-fork, not-gonna-mention-their-first-kiss Parker was here, chest heaving, breath mingling with his, fingers curling on the back of his neck, eyes fluttering like she couldn’t quite keep them open, and it was all because of Hardison.

“I knew you kept it,” Parker continued, resting her hand on his chest, running her fingertips up and down on the fabric of his t-shirt. “The house, I mean.”

“I, um,” Hardison was briefly distracted by her fingers over his heart, “I fixed it up. Installed a state of the art security system I designed, figured you could take a shot at it while we’re here, test it out.”

Parker leaned back to get a better look at his face, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hardison nodded, swallowing, “Put a few surprises in there for you. There’s also laser grid upstairs.”

Parker smiled and pressed a small kiss onto Hardison’s lips. “I’ll beat it,” she kissed him again, “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Hardison nodded. Another kiss. “Tomorrow sounds good.”

Parker laughed and tugged on Hardison, incessant fingers plucking at his clothes and arms, moving so fast it felt like she had six hands. She pulled him towards the stairs.

 

~o0o~

 

The master bedroom was huge, as was all the furniture inside it, so there was more than enough room on the king size bed but, hours later, Parker and Hardison lay tangled together. Hardison slept, his head resting on Parker’s shoulder, breath tickling down her bare skin, arms wrapped tight around her middle. Parker was awake, staring up at the ceiling.

She slipped effortlessly out of Hardison’s embrace without disturbing his sleep, padding over to the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, she turned to look at the man she’d left on the bed. Even though she’d only been gone a few seconds, his arm was already outstretched across the pale sheets, reaching toward where her warmth had been. His broad shoulders and sculpted back made Parker shiver, though that could have been the draft she was beginning to feel creeping in around her. She gave her husband one final, soft smile, and entered the bathroom.

Parker turned the shower as hot as it would go, letting it burn and steam against her body. Touches, kisses, mumbles, embraces flicked through her head, memories hotter than the water.

When she finished in the shower, she pilfered one of Hardison’s t-shirts from his suitcase and pulled it on. (He’d packed an extra one for this specific purpose, having learned long ago that she didn’t care if he ran out of clean laundry because she used his last t-shirt as a nightgown).

Hardison was still asleep, so Parker grabbed her phone out of the pocket of her jeans on the floor and slipped out into the hallway. She hit the number three speed dial.

Sophie answered on the second ring. “I seriously hope you’re not calling me for advice, because judging by the kid I’m babysitting, you should have this part covered.”

Parker rolled her eyes, “How’s Natasha?”

Sophie sighed, “She’s fine, Parker. Don’t worry about it. That’s the whole point of us watching her, so you don’t have to worry.”

“How am I supposed to not worry about her?” Parker asked, absently kicking at the nearest wall. “She’s my daughter.”

“How about you focus on Hardison instead?” Sophie suggested.

“I did that,” Parker said matter-of-factly, “He’s asleep now.”

“So is Natasha,” Sophie countered.

“Okay, but are you sure she’s okay?” Parker leaned against the wall, “She could be having a nightmare. You should go check.”

Sophie sighed again, “Why don’t I send you a video of her, so you can see that she’s sleeping peacefully, and then maybe you can go do the same? And let me catch a few winks too, while you’re at it.”

“Fine,” Parker huffed, “But, hold up three fingers in the video, so I know it’s not prerecorded.”

“For heaven’s sake, Parker, this isn’t a hostage exchange,” Sophie said, but after a minute she added, “There. Done. I’m sending it to you now.”

“Okay, but—” Parker started, but Sophie had already hung up. A second later Parker’s phone vibrated and there was Natasha (and three of Sophie’s fingers). Semi-satisfied that Natasha was at least still breathing, Parker snuck back into the bedroom.

Hardison was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing sweatpants but still shirtless, peering down at his phone. He looked up when she entered, smiling. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Parker perched on the bed next to him. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Hardison shrugged, “No big deal.”

“I showered,” Parker said.

“I see that,” Hardison brushed her damp hair over her shoulder.

Parker took a deep breath, “Also, I called Sophie,” she gestured to the phone in her hand, “Because I needed to make sure that Natasha was okay. I’m sorry, I know you said we’re supposed to be taking a break from her.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, mama,” Hardison cupped her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with worrying about your kid. Plus . . .” he chuckled, holding up the phone he’d staring at on when she came in, “I just got off the phone with Nate doing the same thing.”

“Really?” Parker bit her lip.

Hardison nodded, “He sent me a picture.”

“Sophie sent me a video,” Parker scooted closer to him. “Wanna see?”

They huddled over the screen to stare at the tiny person they’d created together. The video was only a few seconds long, and they watched it twice.

“She’s pretty great, isn’t she?” Parker said, leaning on Hardison’s bare chest.

“Yeah,” Hardison’s arm snuck around her waist, pulling her against him. “Yeah, she is.”

Parker yawned. “So, I get to whup your security system tomorrow?”

“Not if my security system whups you,” Hardison said, kissing Parker’s temple.

Parker snorted.

“I don’t think you understand, mama,” Hardison protested as Parker pulled away from him and crawled to center of the bed, pulling the covers over her. “This is the best of my technology, the peak of my ingenuity.”

“I’m sure it is,” Parker said, turning on her side away from him. “I’m just going to beat it.”

Hardison shook his head, but he didn’t say anything else, just slipped under the covers next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

They’d see tomorrow who came out on top. And, in the meantime, he might as well enjoy the feeling of his wife sleeping next to him.


	13. The Furniture Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team takes a job to take down the CEO of a furniture company, and things take a turn for the worse.

“Meet Richard Beauchamp,” Hardison said, pacing in front of a huge picture of a smirking Beauchamp blown up on their screens. Hardison had one-year-old Natasha on his hip, where she sat during most of his briefings now, because that was the only way she stayed quiet long enough for them to get through it without interruptions. (Hardison claimed it was because she liked being a part of what her daddy does, but Parker suspected it was Hardison’s animated movements and higher vantage points that kept Tasha entertained.)

“Richard is the owner and CEO of Beauchamp Furniture,” Hardison continued, facing the rest of the team seated behind the desk, “But he’s also dipped into arms dealing for a little side income.”

“How’s the furniture company’s financials?” Parker asked.

Hardison grinned, “Great question, babe. How _is_ the furniture company doing? Tasha, you want to take this one?” Hardison offered the remote to Natasha, “Push that button for Daddy, okay?” It took a few tries, but finally Natasha got the right button and the pictures on the screen were replaced by financial statements.

Nate and Eliot rolled their eyes and Sophie and Parker exchanged mildly exasperated looks, but they were all used to Hardison-and-Tasha briefings by now.

“Beauchamp Furniture is doing fine,” Hardison said, gesturing to the corresponding information on the screen. “It’s actually a solid company. The VP, Richard’s niece Rhiannon, has no idea what Uncle Rick is up to. She handles almost every aspect of the company’s American branch. It’s the overseas portion that Richard has turned into his own personal game of hot potato.”

“Hot potato?” Nate asked.

Hardison nodded, “Yeah, see, what he does is he hides the weapons in crates that are labeled as furniture from the company, and pays off the inspectors so they don’t look in them. The crates just get sent back and forth between the buyers and sellers as quickly as possible in the hopes they’ll fly under the radar.”

“Who’s our client?” Eliot asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“That would be William Flanagan. His sister Clara was doing a college outreach work-study program overseas,” Hardison clicked to the next picture on his slideshow, subtly shifting Natasha so she could no longer see the image that filled the screen. It was clouded with smoke, but that didn’t hide the debris, wreckage, and unconscious bodies scattered across a small plaza. “She worked at a hotel that just so happened to be receiving a shipment of couches from Beauchamp Furniture. Somewhere along the line, things got a little mixed up, so instead of a bunch of couches, they got a shipment of explosives.” Hardison gestured to the picture, “No prizes for guessing what happened.”

Sophie looked at the screen a second longer, and then averted her gaze. “And Clara?”

Hardison shook his head. “Survived the blast, but not the surgery to remove the shrapnel from her heart. Died in the hospital.”

Nate frowned, “Why didn’t the explosion tip off the authorities to this guy’s game? Why is he still in play?”

Hardison shrugged, “They whole thing was blamed on terrorists. Beauchamp claimed that one of the local gangs hid a bomb in the truck, and the blast covered up the rest.”

Unlike Sophie, Parker had yet to stop staring at the image of the explosion’s aftermath. “What set off the explosives? You can’t run a successful arms dealing business if your shipments explode upon delivery.”

Hardison sighed, and set Natasha down in her playpen. “William thinks that Beauchamp ordered his guys to set the things off rather than be exposed for what he was up to. He says that Clara told him something of the sort in a voicemail right before she died.”

“He blew up his own shipment just to cover his ass?” Sophie repeated, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I’m always surprised.”

“Because you’re a good person,” Nate said. “Okay,” he turned to Parker, who finally broke her gaze away from the screen. “What’s the plan?”

Parker took a deep breath. “We need to expose his arms dealing. Once we do that, it won’t be hard for a solid police investigation to uncover the truth about the explosion. The whole thing started because of a shipping screw-up?” Parker smiled maliciously, “Then let’s go cause another one.”

A slow grin spread over Hardison’s face. He leaned against the desk across from his wife. “Have I mentioned how much I like the way you think, babe?”

“Once or twice,” Eliot grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Sophie, Nate, I want you on Beauchamp,” Parker said, standing up and moving around the desk to stand by Hardison. “Nate, you’re going to stir the pot, go in as a rival businessman, get him focused on the furniture side of his business, get his attention away from the arms dealing. He needs to think he’s going to lose the company if he doesn’t shut you down. We can’t let him get wind of the shipment we’re going to divert, or he’ll just blow that one up, too. Sophie,” Parker turned to the grifter, “I want you as his new sympathetic assistant. Attend to his needs, make him feel validated, and start a whisper-campaign among the employees calling for his niece Rhiannon to be made CEO.”

Sophie nodded, “All the while steering him in the direction we want.”

“Exactly,” Parker looked over at Hardison, “While they’re on Beauchamp, I want you completely under the radar. Where do you need to be to get into his database and set up the new shipping mistake?”

Hardison considered, “Well, I’d have to poke around to be sure, but there’s no way that a guy as careful as Beauchamp would have security crappy enough to let me in to his arms shipping database remotely. I’ll probably have to get inside.”

“Okay,” Parker could feel the pieces falling together, “You know the drill.”

“The new IT guy,” Hardison confirmed.

“And me?” Eliot asked, looking from Parker to Natasha in her playpen.

“This guy was willing to set off a bomb that killed eight and wounded dozens,” Parker said, “I think we all know what happens if we get caught. I want you on location protecting them.”

Eliot nodded once, crossing his arms over his chest, “Hardison, pull up the files on Beauchamp’s personal security team.”

“Sure, one sec . . .” Hardison typed a few things, and then dossiers of various angry looking men appeared.

Eliot grunted like his suspicions were confirmed. “Oh, definitely gang members. See the tats? Don’t want to tangle with these guys.”

Parker stepped away from the desk, drifting towards Natasha’s playpen. “Sophie and Nate are on Beauchamp, Hardison on the computers, Eliot keeping an eye on the gang, which leaves me with Tasha this round. Sound good to everybody?”

Nods were exchanged all around.

“Let’s go steal a shipment of explosives!” Nate said, standing up.

“And send it to the police,” Parker added.

“Great,” Eliot muttered, “Because that could never go wrong.”

 

~o0o~

 

Parker sat on the floor with her back against the desk, facing the screens where she’d managed to find security cam feeds of the team’s locations. Natasha was playing with one of her toys on the ground in front of Parker. The child was just beginning to toddle and talk, and was on her way to being seriously spoiled by her family.

Parker was splitting her attention between Tasha, the screen, and the team’s voices in her ear. They’d worked out a system where they alternate watching Natasha during jobs depending on which person’s skills were needed the least. It was just another facet of her masterminding, working around who’d be behind the scenes with Natasha. Sometimes all of Hardison’s hacking could be done from Lucille or the brew pub, and sometimes they only needed one grifter so Nate or occasionally Sophie could sit with the baby. Usually they wanted Eliot around in case things went wrong, but he still had to pull a Tasha shift every once in a while. This particular job didn’t require a thief, which was why Parker was keeping track of things from the brew pub with Natasha.

They had one rule, though. Whoever ended up watching Natasha—and they each considered that to be the most important role they could play—they were to do _nothing_ to intervene if things went bad, no matter what. Tasha was the priority, and you didn’t risk her safety to go after any of the others, period. You could listen on the coms, offer advice, hack, answer redirected phone calls, or provide other various forms of long-distance support, but you could not under any circumstances leave your designated babysitting location unless the entire team was well and truly burned and you had to get Tasha out of the country. So far there hadn’t been many times when anyone had been tempted to break the rule, but they all found it hard to know that they couldn’t go and help if someone got in trouble.

“I’ve redirected the shipment,” Hardison said through the coms. “Should I—?”

“Hang on,” Eliot interrupted, “I followed the head of security up to the roof, I think something’s going down.”

“Get out of there,” Parker said, absentmindedly handing Tasha the toy she’d thrown. “It may not be about you, but it’s better safe than sorry.”

“Got it,” Hardison stood, leaving his empty chair swiveling behind him. He made it all the way to the parking lot.

“Alec,” Parker sat up straighter, “Wait, I think you’ve got incoming.” She grabbed the control tablet from the floor next to her and zoomed in tighter on the security cams. “Alec!”

It wasn’t hard to pick out her husband on the camera feed, despite the grainy picture. He was flanked by two of Beauchamp’s gang buddies in the company’s parking lot.

“Oh, hey, guys, what’s up?” Hardison tried to act casual, “I was just on my way out, I’m not feeling great, you know, so—”

One of the gang members sank his fist in Hardison’s stomach. Hardison doubled over, grunting.

“Eliot, where are you?” Parker demanded, “Hardison needs you _now_!”

“I’m a little busy,” Eliot said, and a quick glance to the corner of the screen showed Eliot being swarmed by more than a few ‘security’ guys on the roof of the building.

“How the hell did he make Hardison?” Sophie whispered, turning away from Beauchamp, who was standing right behind her talking to Nate. “What happened to ‘under the radar?’”

“Apparently, they have a very good radar,” Hardison got out, ducking another fist. He was holding his own so far, but it was obvious that he was no match for these guys.

“Alec,” Parker started, but she didn’t have anything else to say. She didn’t have a fix, not until Eliot could get down off the roof. “Dammit!”

Natasha was oblivious to the fear in her mother’s voice, and contently mashed buttons on her age-appropriate developmental toy to make it play upbeat music.

Which was how Parker ended up watching her husband’s kidnapping to the tune of “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

 

~o0o~

 

“Alec, talk to me,” Parker said, fiddling with Hardison’s traffic cam links. She’d put Natasha in her playpen and taken up her position behind the desk, slipping further into mastermind-mode. “I lost the car again, and I’m not great with your programs.”

“Forget it, babe, from the looks of this place, there probably aren’t many security cams around here anyway,” Hardison sounded calm, which was a good sign, but he was handcuffed in the back of a gang member’s car, and he never did learn to pick cuffs.

“Who are you talking to?” demanded the voice that Parker had begun referring to as Dead Meat #1.

“What?” Hardison asked, and only Parker recognized the quaver in his voice. Sophie and Nate were still tied up with the mark, and if they let on that something was wrong they’d tip Beauchamp off. Eliot was on his way to Hardison’s location, using the GPS in the earbuds, but he could only get to there so fast. It didn’t take very long to shoot someone in the head and set the warehouse on fire, which happened to be the MO of this particular group. “I’m not talking to anyone. I think you’re hearing things.”

“Get up,” Dead Meat #2 said, and Parker heard a few rustling sounds followed by a car door slamming.

“Hang on,” Parker said, typing on the tablet again, “I used your GPS fix to narrow the search for cameras and I think I’ve found one in the warehouse. Eliot? How far are you?”

“I’m about ten minutes out,” Eliot said, but his sentence was closely followed by several loud honks and a screeching, “Scratch that, make it fifteen.”

Hardison was manhandled into a metal folding chair in the middle of an empty warehouse (serious, where do the baddies find these places? Evil-Lair-R-Us?). His hands were still handcuffed behind his back, and he was seriously regretting the arrogance that had led him to assume he didn’t need to learn how to get out of them because he’d always be in the vicinity of someone else who could.

“Eliot?” Parker said again.

“It’s only been a few seconds, Parker!” Eliot snapped, but that was his concerned voice, which did nothing to make any of them feel better.

Parker picked up Natasha and carried her back to her spot behind the desk, needing to hold the little girl in her arms. She’d managed to get one feed from the warehouse, but it’d been blocked by crates and proved to be useless, so all she had was what she could hear through the coms.

 _Fifteen minutes_ , Hardison thought, _I can stall for fifteen minutes._ Aloud, he said, “You don’t want to do this.”

Dead Meat #1 snorted, “Do you know how many men on the other side of this gun have said the same thing, seconds before I blow their brains out?”

Parker held onto Natasha a little bit tighter. To her credit, Natasha didn’t squirm or make a sound, finally picking up on Parker’s mood. She simply lay her head down on Parker’s shoulder and allowed her mother to hug her tight and press a kiss onto her curls.

“Actually, you know, I’d really rather not know the answer to that question,” Hardison said quickly, swallowing.

Dead Meat #1 chuckled, “How about I humor you, huh? Like in the movies? ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head,’ isn’t that what they say?” He was joking, trying to imitate a movie villain, but Hardison took him seriously.

Hardison took a deep breath, meeting Dead Meat #1’s eyes. “You shouldn’t kill me because I’ve got a daughter that needs me,” he said. Dead Meat #1 rolled his eyes, but Hardison didn’t stop speaking. “Do you have any children?”

Before Dead Meat #1 could show his derision, Dead Meat #2 stepped forward, half raising his hand, “I have a daughter.”

“Yeah?” Hardison smiled a little, turning to Dead Meat #2. “How old is she?”

“Six years old,” Dead Meat #2 grinned, “She’s my little princess.”

Hardison nodded, looking down at his lap. He slowly raised his eyes back to Dead Meat #2’s, “I have a daughter, too. She’s only a year old. Here,” he scooted forward in his chair as well as he could with his hands cuffed behind his back. “If you look in my wallet, I’ve got a picture of her.”

Dead Meat #2 started to take the wallet from him, while Dead Meat #1 watched in exasperation.

Hardison waited until DM#2 had the picture out of his wallet before spoke again, “That’s my wife that’s holding her.”

Parker knew exactly which picture Hardison was talking about. He’d taken it on Natasha’s first birthday, when Tasha had chocolate icing all over her face and Parker had been trying to wipe it off. Natasha had one pigtail undone and there were chocolate stains on Parker’s shirt, but Hardison didn’t care. He swore up and down that it was his favorite picture of the two of them, and he’d not only put a copy in his wallet, but also framed one for his bedside table.

Parker forced herself to take a deep breath, to keep her grip relaxed, to focus on Natasha in her arms, on keeping Natasha calm and quiet. She didn’t bother asking Eliot how far away he was, knowing that asking wouldn’t change the answer.

“They both need me to come home,” Hardison continued, leaning forward in his chair, “If you kill me, then my daughter won’t remember me at all. Either of you grow up without a dad?”

DM#1 hesitated, and then lowered his gun. “I did.”

DM#2 looked surprised, glancing over at his partner, “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” DM#1 nodded sadly, “He was arrested when I was a baby. Died in prison. I only met him twice.”

At this point, Hardison knew that he could stop talking in the hopes that his captors would converse among themselves until Eliot arrived, but something made him speak up again, “Do you want my daughter to have to live like that? Because growing up without a dad sucked, didn’t it? I know, because I didn’t have one either,” Hardison looked from one man to the other, “Do you want my little girl to have to live that way?”

DM#1 and DM#2 froze, exchanging glances. Hardison could tell that they were softening, but it didn’t matter, because the hacker could see a shadow approaching them from behind, and the next thing they knew, Eliot had the gun away from DM#1 and the gang member was on the ground. Within minutes, it was over.

Eliot took the keys from unconscious DM#2’s pocket and uncuffed Hardison.

“Parker?” Hardison said, his hand instinctively going to his com, “Parker, you there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Parker let out a breath, bouncing Natasha in her arms, ignoring the tear making its way down her cheek, “I’m here. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Hardison said, grinning, “I’m good. Hey, tell Natasha that she just saved her dad’s life.”

Eliot rolled his eyes, “Yeah, she saved you alright. It’s not like I did any punching or kicking or anything.”

Hardison ignored him, “Babe, tell Tasha that I’m stopping to get her some kind of huge present, because she’s probably the only reason I’m alive.”

Parker just laughed, setting Natasha on the desk in front of her. “Did you hear that? Huh? Did you hear what Daddy said?” Parker asked her daughter, holding Natasha’s hands and pressing a kiss onto her forehead, “Daddy is going to get you a present for helping him.”

 Natasha replied simply, “Fog.” That was how she said ‘frog’ which was currently her favorite animal and her favorite word.

“She wants a frog,” Parker said.

“Course she does,” Eliot muttered.

“One frog, coming up,” Hardison said, “Eliot, we’re stopping at the toy store.”

 

~o0o~

 

The con was wrapped up neatly thanks to the hacking Hardison did before he was caught and the Sophie’s whisper campaign. The arms shipment landed in the lap of law enforcement instead of international terrorists, Rhiannon replaced her uncle as the CEO of the company, Richard was arrested, and investigations into the explosion were pending. Late that night, after presenting William Flanagan with a large sum of money for a study abroad scholarship in his sister’s name, Parker and Hardison were getting ready for bed. Natasha was asleep in her room, watched over by an inordinately large stuffed frog.

Parker sat on the bed, watching Hardison across the room. Neither of them said much when Hardison made it back to the brew pub. Parker had just offered Natasha to him, let him hold her tight and watch her eyes light up when he presented her with the giant frog. Parker knew that holding their daughter was what he needed, because it’d been what she needed when Hardison was in danger.

“How did you know to say those things?” Parker asked, “The stuff about Natasha, how did you know that would work?”

Hardison sighed and sank onto the bed, “I didn’t.”

Parker nodded, ready to accept that answer.

“Ever since I was buried alive, whenever things get dangerous, or I think something is going to happen to me, I hear you voice in my head,” Hardison continued, to Parker’s surprise. She didn’t say anything, just let him speak. “I hear you saying that you need me, and that gives me a reason to fight. But you don’t need me anymore, not the way that you did when you said it—”

“Alec,” Parker interrupted, cocking her head to the side and giving him a scolding look. “That’s not true.”

“No, it is.” Hardison turned to face her, pulling his feet up onto the bed and under the sheets, moving closer to Parker. “You don’t need me the way you did. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t fight with everything in me to get back to you, but today, when I had that gun pointed at me, I may have heard your voice in my head, but all I could see was Tasha.”

Parker nodded slowly, looking down at her lap. “Nate was wrong,” she said finally.

“He loves to hear you say that,” Hardison joked, but there was little humor in it.

Parker ignored him. “As a parent, my biggest fear isn’t that Natasha will be a failure, it’s not evil clowns named GeGe, and it’s not even that Natasha will get hurt—though that’s very high on the list,” she took a deep breath, “My biggest fear is that Tasha will get left all alone. That something will happen to me, and you, and she’ll have to grow up like we did.”

Hardison looked over at his wife, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He had the same fear, it was all he could think about in that warehouse, which is why he ended up using it to distract the gang members. But Parker didn’t need to hear that he felt the same way, she needed him to tell her that everything was going to be alright. “That’s why we have someone stay with her during the jobs,” Hardison said, squeezing Parker’s shoulder, “To make sure that she’ll always have someone to take care of her.”

“I know,” Parker huffed, “And I’m glad that we do, but. . . As much as I love Nate, Sophie, and Eliot, they’re not Tasha’s parents. Don’t you think it should be one of us?”

Hardison stayed quiet for a long time. He took a measured breath, and pressed a kiss onto Parker’s temple. “Are you saying that you want to get out of the game?”

Parker finally met his eyes, “I’m saying that today sucked.”

Hardison chuckled, “Yeah, that it did.”

Neither of them spoke for a few more minutes, and then—

“I’ll lay off the jobs,” Hardison said.

Parker sat up straight, “What?”

Hardison gave a small little nod like he was confirming his own good idea, “I’ll be the one that stays behind with Natasha on the jobs. Most of my hacking can be done remotely, and if it can’t, I’ll come up with something, a—a flash drive or a modified skim phone, something you or one of the others can sneak into the building to get me remote access.”

“Are you sure?” Parker still looked concerned, “You said you never wanted to leave the game.”

“I’ll still be in the game,” Hardison touched Parker’s cheek, brushing some hair back from her face. “I’ll just also be a work-from-home dad. We all know that I suck at the long con, at lock picking, at working with anything that’s not digital. I’m not much for punching, either, so this will work out better for everyone. Less of a headache for Eliot, that’s for sure.”

Parker bit her lip, “If you’re sure you want to. . .”

Hardison nodded, “I’m sure.”

Parker sighed and sank into Hardison’s chest, tension leaving her body with the breath, “I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re taking care of Natasha.”

“Just, be careful, okay?” Hardison pressed his cheek onto the top of Parker’s head. “Natasha needs you, too.”

“Of course,” Parker smiled, “I love you.”

“Love you too, mama.”


	14. The Birthday Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Natasha's second birthday!

On the morning of her second birthday, Natasha woke up her parents at six by trying to climb in their bed. She’d become adept at climbing out of her crib, which was part of the reason that she had a brand-new toddler bed waiting to be put together. Hardison sat up, wiping at his eyes.

“Hey, baby girl, what are you doing?” he asked, hefting Natasha up into his lap.

Parker rolled over, saw Tasha sitting proudly in her green frog pajamas, and smiled softly, propping herself up on her elbows. “Someone’s up early for her birthday,” she said, tickling Natasha’s tummy, making the child giggle.

“Takes after her mother,” Hardison quipped, bouncing Natasha up and down on his knee.

“Hey,” Parker protested, sitting up straighter, “That was one time!”

“One time, Daddy,” Natasha repeated, grinning. She liked to copy Parker, especially when someone was arguing with her, much to Eliot and Hardison’s annoyance.

“Yeah, you tell him, Tasha,” Parker nodded approvingly, getting out of bed.

Hardison rolled his eyes, but knew better than to argue. The incident in question was Parker’s first birthday after she confided in Hardison when it was. Hardison, aware that—like Christmas—birthdays probably hadn’t meant very much when Parker was growing up, had planned something special for her. Unfortunately for his sleep schedule, he’d made the mistake of telling her that a birthday surprise was coming, which prompted her to text him a minute after midnight on her birthday and then just about every other minute after that asking if it was time for the surprise yet. By the time the afternoon rolled around, Hardison was nodding off into the chocolate cake. (Parker had a lot of fun, though, and that’s what really mattered.)

Natasha sat on the bed while her parents got dressed, telling a long-winded story that Hardison honestly couldn’t make heads or tails of, like most of her rambles. Parker, on the other hand, always swore up and down that she knew exactly what Natasha meant. Hardison couldn’t tell if she actually understood their daughter or if she simply bluffed her way through, but every time Hardison tried to test her on it, she turned out to be correct, so at this point he just went with it.

Just watching Parker move around the bedroom, Hardison could tell that she was getting more and more excited as she shook off the sleep and focused on the day ahead.

Parker loved birthdays. She loved them almost as much as she loved Christmas. She hid it better, though, and it had taken her longer to share that side of her with the team. Despite her expectant late-night texts before her surprise party, her enthusiasm was usually reserved for other people’s birthdays. In the past few years, she’d arranged for Eliot to spar with some of the top martial artists from around the globe, threw Sophie a birthday extravaganza worthy of a Duchess (complete with plenty of rich and griftable old men), and acquired Comic-Con tickets for Hardison, so that they could go back when they weren’t on a job and finish their interrupted almost-date. Nate wasn’t really a birthday fan, but somehow tasteful gifts from Parker always managed to end up on his kitchen counter, or coffee table, or (more disturbingly) the dresser in his bedroom. Parker always got a lecture about boundaries the next day, but she knew that Nate appreciated it more than he’d admit.

Hardison loved Parker, but she’d been a holy nightmare leading up to Natasha’s second birthday. He didn’t blame her for wanting their daughter’s birthday to be perfect, but she’d put an insane amount of energy into what amounted to a small get-together with Eliot, Nate, and Sophie. She’d filled the back rooms of the brew pub with equal parts princess and frog decorations (but not _The Princess and the Frog_ , because that wouldn’t make any sense at all, as she’d snapped at Hardison when he’d asked) and she’d hounded Eliot all week about a specialty cake. Tasha’s day was going to be perfect, Parker was going to make sure of it.

“Hey, babe?” Hardison absentmindedly picked Natasha up off the bed, “I’ve got a few things to do before the party.”

“Things?” Parker asked, coming out of the bathroom, thinking that he meant wrapping a last-minute present, or double-checking that Eliot ordered the ice cream.

“Yeah, we’ve got a few aliases that need to be scrubbed, plus I thought of an update for one of my algorithms last night,” he shrugged, “Just normal housekeeping stuff.”

“Oh,” Parker said, looking down. “Okay.”

Hardison smiled, and started to leave the room, but caught himself and swung around before he made it to the door. Parker perked up, thinking that maybe he’d changed his mind, but all he said was, “Do you want me to take Tasha, or did you want to?”

Parker bit her lip and shrugged, “Whichever.”

Hardison’s smile got even bigger, “I’ll keep her with me, then.” He left, telling Natasha how much she was going to enjoy her birthday party.

Parker blew out a breath. “Yep,” she muttered, “It’s going to be great.”

 

~o0o~

 

 

Turns out, there weren’t any more presents to wrap, and Eliot had indeed ordered the ice cream. That left Parker with hours and nothing to do. She didn’t want to sit idle on Natasha’s birthday. They should be doing something.

But there was nothing else to do, despite the nagging in her gut. She should have saved at least some of the decorating for this morning, so she wouldn’t be stuck pacing the apartment and reorganizing the modest stack of presents. After about an hour, Parker went to find Hardison. He was in the back rooms, at the lighted countertop, Natasha securely in her large playpen on the floor in front of him.

Natasha was talking excitedly to her father, telling a (mostly nonsensical) story about a character on her favorite show. Hardison typed along at his computer, interjecting ‘okays’ and ‘hmms,’ completely ignoring Natasha. This wasn’t the first time Parker caught him placating Tasha, but this time definitely made her the angriest.

It was Natasha’s birthday, which was supposed to be one of the happiest days of the year for her. But how could the little girl tell, since it was just like every other day, when Hardison plops her in her playpen and parks himself in front of his screens and keyboards? (Parker didn’t usually have a problem with Hardison doing this, Natasha was usually content to play in her playpen for at least a couple hours, and Hardison needed to give most of his attention to the jobs, but it rubbed her the wrong way to see him doing it today).

“Alec!” Parker snapped, making Hardison jump.

“He-hey, babe,” Hardison said, taking his hands off his keyboard. “What’s up?”

“’What’s up?’” Parker repeated, throwing out her hands, “I don’t know, what’s up with you?”

Hardison’s eyes widened. “Okay, you are angry about something.”

Parker raised her eyebrows, “Yeah, I am.”

Natasha had fallen silent when her parents started to argue, and Parker crossed to the center of the room and picked her up. She put Tasha on one hip and her hand on the other.

“I know how great of a father you are!” Parker said, squinting at Hardison.

“Okay!” Hardison snapped, standing up, and then paused, realizing that he was reacting more to Parker’s tone than her words, since she hadn’t said anything derogatory yet. “Wait—”

“It’s Tasha’s birthday,” Parker let out a breath, annoyed but unable to articulate exactly what she was feeling, “And you’re not acting like it!”

“What do you mean?” Hardison asked, but he felt a little pang deep in his stomach. “This whole place is covered in frogs and—and tutus, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Natasha knows it’s her birthday. We’re having the party later.”

Parker looked him up and down and then shook her head, turning on her heel and leaving with Natasha still on her hip.

 

~o0o~

 

Eliot found Hardison typing on his computer in the back rooms, which wasn’t unusual, except for the very distinctive set of his shoulders, and the lack of Parker or Natasha.

“What did you do?” Eliot asked, setting his large, wrapped present down on the countertop.

Hardison looked up sharply, “What do you mean, ‘What did _I_ do?’ How do you know it was me? Maybe, Parker just stomped in here and yelled at me for no damn reason, and then stomped out again. Did you think of that?”

Eliot leaned against the counter, leveling his gaze on Hardison, letting his skeptical expression speak for him.

Hardison sighed, “Okay, I may have screwed up.”

“Oh, really?” Eliot asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

Hardison rolled his eyes, “I offered to watch Tasha because I thought that Parker had some things she wanted to do before the party, but I _also_ had things that need to be done, job related things, so I put Natasha in her playpen so I could get them done—and she was perfectly fine in there, by the way—but Parker came down and decided that I was ignoring Tasha on her birthday.”

Eliot shrugged, “Sounds like you kind of were.”

Hardison’s initial reaction was to defend himself, but instead he brushed it off and went back to his work on the computer.

“Parker stormed off?” Eliot asked after a minute. “And this was a while ago?”

Hardison nodded.

“And you didn’t follow her?”

Hardison stopped typing, “I was giving her time to calm down.”

Eliot made that face that meant he had something he wanted to say, but at the same time, he had no desire to get involved.

Hardison took a breath in through his nose, “Go on. Say what you’re gonna say.”

Eliot hesitated, cocking his head to the side a bit, “I just think that you’ve given Parker too much time.”

“What?” This time when Hardison felt the urge to defend him actions, he didn’t rein himself in, “You don’t even know how long ago this happened. How do you know if I’ve waited too long?”

“I don’t mean this fight,” Eliot said, standing up straight. “You’ve given that girl nothing but time, as long as you’ve known her, which was good way back when she didn’t have the—the emotional vocabulary to act like a normal human person, but she doesn’t need that space anymore. I tried telling you that once before, and you decided to repeatedly tell the leader of a Mexican drug cartel that you’re a racist dirty cop, but I think you should take me seriously this time.” Eliot took a deep breath. He almost never said this much, especially about Parker and Hardison’s relationship. “Parker—she married you. I think that means she’s done needing so much space.”

Hardison had been staring down at his keyboard while his friend spoke, but now he looked up, “Yeah. Okay.”

Hardison was almost out of the room when Eliot called after him, “You know why this means so much to her?”

Hardison stopped, turning halfway around, “Of course I do.”

Eliot nodded once, and watched Hardison leave.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker sat on the roof of the brew pub, Natasha in her lap. This wasn’t the first time Parker had brought the toddler up here, but she hadn’t wanted to install baby-safe railings around the edge (because then how will _I_ jump off?) so she kept a tight hold on Natasha’s middle. Today, though, Tasha wasn’t trying to escape, she was contently snuggled in Parker’s arms, pointing out at the city below them.

“That one is a—that one—” Natasha huffed and indicated a tallish building in the distance.

“You like that one?” Parker prompted when Tasha fell silent.

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed, leaning back into her mother.

Parker grinned, “I jumped off that one three years ago. It was fun,” Parker tickled Natasha’s tummy. “And what do we say when we jump off buildings?”

“Whee!” Natasha answered excitedly, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Whee!” Parker agreed, kissing Natasha’s cheek.

They stared out at the skyline in silence for a few minutes.

Hardison poked his head out of the door to the roof. Parker knew he was there, but she didn’t react when he sat down next to her and Natasha.

Hardison wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t speak.

“You don’t need to be here,” Parker said over her shoulder.

“What?”

“I know you hate being up here,” Parker shrugged, still not looking at him. “You never come up here unless I’m up here, plus there’s your whole fear of heights.” She paused and then added under her breath, “Not that it’s actually _that_ high . . .”

“You just seemed upset, so I wanted to come see what was up,” Hardison said, looking down at his hands.

Parker frowned, finally turning to face her husband.

“Okay,” Hardison admitted, “I know what’s up. I’m sorry I was working, but I didn’t mean—”

Parker raised her eyebrows at him, gesturing expectantly to Natasha.

“Sorry,” Hardison cleared his throat and leaned down to address Natasha directly, “Tasha, I am very sorry that I worked on your birthday. Do you think you could forgive me?”

Natasha blinked at him, and smiled, reaching out to touch his face. (Hardison knew that Natasha didn’t really understand much about apologies yet, but Parker insisted that she understood things far above her intellectual level).

Parker nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Is Eliot here yet?”

“Yeah, he’s downstairs with the cake,” Hardison said.

Parker got to her feet, hefting Natasha on her hip, “I’ve got to go check on the stuff he brought.”

“Of course,” Hardison stood, following Parker towards the stairs. “Hey, babe?”

Parker turned, brushing her bangs out of her eyes, “Yeah?”

“I understand why this is so important to you, and I _am_ sorry,” he said, meeting her gaze.

Parker bit her lip, hesitating. “I’m not sure that you do understand, actually.”

Hardison froze, taken aback, but before he could say anything else, Parker disappeared down the stairs.

 

~o0o~

 

That afternoon, the whole family congregated in the back rooms, for once not gathered to destroy or avenge or calculate, but to celebrate their little miracle. After checking Eliot’s cake, Parker had disappeared into the apartment with Natasha to dress her in her birthday outfit. What the others hadn’t counted on, however, was Parker making an identical outfit for herself, so when Parker and Natasha made their grand entrance into the party, it was a sight to see.

Parker and Natasha were both wearing turquoise leggings with large pink polka-dots, a green and black plaid shirt, and large grins. Natasha’s dark, curly hair had been pulled up into two pigtails high up on her head, and she wore her favorite purple tutu. Parker wasn’t wearing a tutu (Natasha had to have something that was unique to her, since this was her birthday, after all) and her pigtails were low behind her ears.

“Nice outfit,” Eliot grunted when Parker and Natasha made it down the stairs, and it was impossible to tell from his tone if he was being genuine or sarcastic.

Parker smiled brightly anyway, “Tasha picked it out.”

“No kidding,” Eliot raised his eyebrows, slightly mocking this time, but Parker didn’t notice.

Sophie rolled her eyes at Eliot and held out her hands to take Natasha from Parker. “I think it’s adorable,” Sophie said as Parker handed Tasha over.

Natasha grinned at her Aunt Sophie and started to tell her more about her outfit. Parker smiled a little as Sophie carried Natasha over to Nate.

Hardison was glad that Parker seemed to have gotten over what had been bothering her this morning. Honestly, he and Parker rarely fought, and when they did it was usually over something weird and ultimately inconsequential, like the time she got mad when he rotated the heads of the Baby Joy-Rage dolls in her warehouse to happy instead of scary. They’d certainly never had an argument that ended with Parker telling him she didn’t think he understood her and then going straight back to acting normal a few minutes later without a word as to why her mood suddenly shifted. Regardless, he was glad she was happy again.

Parker had every detail of the party planned, and it was actually a lot like one of her plans for a job, both in efficiency and in her exasperation if one of them messed something up. Since they didn’t know any kids Tasha’s age to invite (Peggy and Hurley were their only friends with a child, and their son wasn’t yet one, plus they still lived in Boston), Natasha got the attention from all five of the adults, even if Eliot’s participation in things like “Ring around the Rosy” was done under protest. They each took a turn leading Natasha in one of her favorite games, and then Eliot brought out the food and—more importantly to both Parker and Natasha—the cake.

Parker strapped Natasha into her high chair and made her eat half of her artfully presented peanut-butter and jelly before she’d allow anyone to touch the cake.

It was a confectionary masterpiece. Eliot had called up one of his baker friends to consult, and spent far too much time on the thing. It was about a foot high, and shaped like a cartoon frog. They’d be swimming in leftover cake all week, but it was Parker’s one extreme, the thing that she went overboard on, despite the fact that Natasha won’t remember anything about this birthday when she’s older.

After the cake, they let Natasha loose on the stack of presents. She went for the biggest first, which was from Eliot. It was as big as she was.

“Here,” Eliot crouched next to the birthday girl, helping her rip off the wrapping paper, “There you go,” he said when she got the paper off, balling it up and removing it from her view so she wouldn’t fixate on the shiny paper instead of the mini-kitchen playset that he’d gotten her.

“Really?” Nate asked, shaking his head, “A pink plastic kitchen? Pushy, much?”

“Hey!” Eliot grunted, glaring at Nate, “It’s never too early to familiarize yourself with appliances.”

“Right,” Nate said skeptically, taking a sip of his drink.

Sophie shot her husband a look before turning back to Eliot, “I think it’s sweet.”

“Open it!” Natasha ordered Eliot, tugging on the edges of the box.

“Sure, sweetie,” Eliot said, removing Natasha’s hand from the box, “But I have to put it together before you can play with it.”

Natasha didn’t understand why she couldn’t play with it _right then_ , but Parker gently redirected her attention to her next present so Eliot could carry the kitchen to the other side of the room and begin to assemble it. Sophie looked pointedly at her husband until Nate, grumbling, joined Eliot in putting the playset together.

The next gift was from Sophie, a chest full of very fancy dress up clothes.

Hardison held up one of the dresses, frowning, “Sophie, why does this feel simultaneously rarely-worn and extremely old?”

Sophie shrugged nonchalantly, “They may or may not have belonged to a princess. . . and then to a Russian museum before they came into my possession.”

“Ah,” Hardison let the dress fall back into the chest.

After Natasha donned one of the royal dresses (on top of her birthday outfit, tutu and all), she moved on to the other boxes from her uncles and aunt. Nate wondered back over in time to see her rip the paper off the stack of books he’d given her. Her favorite was probably the doll and tea set, also from Sophie, but she’d yet to open anything from her parents.

“Hey, Parker, where’s our stuff?” Hardison asked, grinning at Natasha showing her doll to Eliot, who was still trying to put the kitchen set together.

“Upstairs,” Parker said, putting her drink down, “I’ll go get them.”

“I’ll help,” Hardison said quickly, following her upstairs to their apartment.

“They’re over here,” Parker said, and Hardison silently helped her gather them up.

As Parker started back towards the stairs, Hardison finally spoke, “Babe?”

“Hmm?” Parker turned back around and looked at him expectantly, much like she had up on the roof before she delivered that confounding statement.

“Uh,” Hardison almost lost his nerve, but he needed to know that she wasn’t still upset with him. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I wasn’t trying to imply that I understood what you—”

“Not everything is because my childhood sucked, Hardison,” Parker interrupted.

Hardison blinked, and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Parker sighed, shaking her head, “Sometimes I feel like you—and the others, too—assume that I like things or don’t like things because I’ve never had a normal life. And, I guess that could be true, but. . .” she hesitated, “I don’t really want to think about the reason, I just want to enjoy the things I enjoy, without anyone pitying me because I go crazy for holidays.”

Hardison nodded slowly, “I’m sorry, Parker.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” Parker shrugged, “I’m not mad.” She put down the presents she was holding and crossed to room to give Hardison a kiss. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Hardison said, smiling.

Natasha was playing with the finally assembled kitchen set when Parker and Hardison came back down the stairs, but she dropped everything in Eliot’s lap and ran to her parents.

“Don’t be fooled,” Eliot grumbled, standing up, “She’s really only interested in the toys.”

Hardison laughed and scooped up his daughter, spinning her around to make her giggle. He’d gotten her a state-of-the-art developmental toy, which he let her open now, even though he still had to spend about a week upgrading it until it met his standards. Natasha also received art supplies, another doll, and a set of foam balls for the park from her parents. Hardison thought that was everything, but Parker pulled something shiny out of her pocket and put it on the table in front of Natasha.

It was a medium sized padlock, a bit too large for Tasha’s hands. Parker had stuck a bow on it, but other than that, it was unwrapped.

Nate, Sophie, and Eliot took interest in this final present, wandering over to get a closer look.

“A lock?” Eliot asked, shaking his head, “What is she going to do with a lock?”

Hardison didn’t appreciate Eliot’s tone, but he too was skeptical about Parker’s final gift.

Parker picked the lock up again, running her finger over the smooth metal. She gestured to Sophie, “Sophie said that sometimes parents give kids small things that they won’t use right away, but can keep forever.”

“I, uh,” Sophie bit her lip, “I meant something like jewelry, Parker.”

“You also said that sometimes people get them engraved with stuff,” Parker continued as if Sophie hadn’t spoken.

Hardison took the lock from Parker, flipping it over. What he saw there made tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. He reached over and pulled Parker against him, cradling Natasha between them. “I think she’s going to love it,” he said, kissing Parker’s temple.

_Tasha,_

_No matter where you go, or what you become, you’ll always be the one_

_that taught me to understand love. I love you more than pretzels._

_—Mommy_


	15. The Venice Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker and Hardison take a trip, leaving Tasha with Nate, Eliot, and Sophie.

Venice.

That had been Parker’s answer when Sophie asked.

Venice.

Sophie looked thoughtful. “Are you sure that’s the _most_ romantic place you want to go with Hardison?”

Parker hesitated, and then nodded.

“Okay then.” Sophie smiled. “What did you need my help for?”

Parker presented Venice to Hardison, and he shrugged, saying something about how the location didn’t matter as long as they were together. Parker appreciated the sentiment, but she wanted her husband to understand why that was where she wanted to go for their romantic getaway.

“Wait.” Parker grabbed his hand, drawing his full attention to her face. “Don’t you want to know why?”

Hardison’s eyes narrowed just a bit, and he cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, which meant that he was realizing something deeper was going on in her head than he originally thought. “Yeah, of course, babe. Why Venice?”

Parker chewed her lip, taking her time before answering. “Most of my foster parents sucked.”

Hardison blinked. That wasn’t what he’d expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to interrupt now.

“But one of them didn’t,” Parker took a breath and looked up, meeting Hardison’s eyes. “Her name was Miss Sylvia. She was the foster home where my brother . . .” Parker looked away, but Hardison nodded and reached out to gently lay his hand on hers. “Um,” Parker cleared her throat, “Before, when things were good, I asked her—and I don’t know why I remember this, because I was just a kid, but I asked her what romance was. And, she said, ‘Oh, it’s magic, and music, and gondolas in Venice, with a man that would rather look at you than at the city.’” Parker shrugged, giving Hardison a there-you-have-it smile. “For some reason, that stuck with me, so when I try to think about normal romance . . .”

Hardison slid over next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. She sighed into his arms, relaxing the length of her body against him. “Venice, it is,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss onto her hair.

 

~o0o~

 

“Sophie!” Parker tugged on Sophie’s arm, pulling her away from the rest of the team. They were gathered right outside of security at the airport, saying their goodbyes to Parker and Hardison, since Sophie insisted that they all come to drop the couple off. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, Parker.” Sophie came along, but she cast a glance back at Nate, Eliot, and Hardison, who were giving them curious looks. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait until after your trip. It may not even be a problem by the time you get back. Try talking to Hardison about it.”

Parker rotated Sophie so that the grifter was between her and the others. She bit her lip, “Okay, but, that’s the problem, see, it’s—”

“Hey!” Eliot hollered across the crowded room. “Flight’s leaving soon. You need to go.”

“We’re coming,” Sophie called over her shoulder, starting to head back to the group. She caught the concerned look on Parker’s face and immediately stopped, “I’m sorry, Parker. I wasn’t trying to brush you off. What is it?”

Parker hesitated, looking over Sophie’s shoulder at Hardison, who caught her gaze and smiled widely at her. She took a deep breath. “You’re right. I need to talk to Hardison.”

Sophie smiled, touching Parker lightly on the arm. “Shall we get you off to Venice, then?”

Parker nodded.

Hardison was hugging Natasha as tightly as he could. The four-year-old had her arms clamped around his neck and her feet wrapped as far around his torso as they would go, squeezing with all her might. “Hey,” Hardison said when Natasha relaxed her grip, “You be good for your aunt and uncles, okay?”

Natasha nodded, but she wasn’t looking at him, so he repeated his request until she verbally agreed.

“Good girl,” Hardison said, kissing Natasha’s forehead. “I love you, baby girl.”

Natasha smiled, “Love you too, Daddy!”

Parker slipped up behind Hardison, running a hand along his back and taking Natasha from him. Natasha gave her mother the same treatment she’d given Hardison, wrapping as much of her body around her as she could. Parker loved these ‘whole-self hugs’ and didn’t know what she was going to do when Natasha got too big to pick up.

“We’ll be back before you know it, okay, Tasha?” Parker studied Natasha’s face. They’d tried to explain about the trip before, but they couldn’t quite tell how much the little girl understood.

Natasha didn’t answer, just sloppily kissed Parker’s cheek, which didn’t do much to assuage Parker’s fear, but did make her smile.

“We really got to go, mama,” Hardison said reluctantly, glancing at his watch.

“I know,” Parker sighed, putting Natasha down. Eliot stepped forward and took Tasha’s hand so she wouldn’t try to run off or run after her parents.

“You’re going to have a wonderful time!” Sophie said, clapping her hands together. “And don’t worry about anything, we’ve got Tasha.”

Hardison nodded, “Thanks, guys.”

Nate waved them towards security, “Go, already.”

They went.

 

~o0o~

 

Natasha handled her parents’ departure relatively well. This was far from the first time she’d been in the care of her aunt or uncles, but the child had yet to figure out that this time her parents wouldn’t be back before bedtime. Sophie’s plan was to keep her distracted for as long as possible, in the hopes that she wouldn’t notice.

Which was how Eliot found himself in this regrettable situation.

He should have just gone home. Sophie and Nate could take care of Natasha just fine, they didn’t really need him. But, for some reason, he’d hung around with Nate in the kitchen of the Fords’ house, drinking a beer and watching Nate attempt to cook until he just couldn’t take it anymore and took over himself (which was no doubt Nate’s plan in the first place).

Cooking lasagna for his family wasn’t the regrettable situation, though. No, that came after the dish was in the oven and he went looking for Nate, Sophie, and Natasha. They were all three in the bedroom that Nate and Sophie had set up for Natasha, which was more like a playroom since the girl rarely spent the night there.

The bedroom looked like any other little girl’s room to Eliot, complete with a small canopy bed, soft pink walls, and a white table low to the ground where Natasha could sit and play with Legos, or play on her tablet, or color. Today, however, there weren’t any coloring pages or annoying plastic bricks on table. Instead, it was overflowing with— _Oh, no_.

“Uncle Eliot!” Natasha jumped to her feet, leaving Nate and Sophie’s smirking faces at the perfectly set table and running to wrap her arms around Eliot’s leg. “Come eat with us!”

Eliot cast a skeptical glance at the plastic food items resting on the fine china (probably stolen) that Sophie had given to Natasha as a part of her tea set. He reached down and patted Natasha’s head, “Uh, sweetheart, we’re gonna eat the lasagna I put in the oven.” Natasha frowned at him, so he tried to come up with a better explanation. “If we eat now, we won’t be hungry later.”

“Oh, come one, Eliot, are you too proud to have a tea party with your niece?” Nate asked, raising his eyebrow and a teacup in a mock-toast. Natasha had apparently convinced him to wear a pink feather boa (unless that had been Sophie’s idea; Eliot wasn’t really sure he wanted to know which) and he had a piece of plastic broccoli on his plate.

“Too proud to wear feathers? Yeah, man, so sue me,” Eliot grumbled, but Natasha tugged on his hand.

“Uncle Eliot?” Natasha turned her big brown eyes on him. “Come have tea?”

Eliot softened, groaning, and Nate didn’t bother to hide his smirk.

“Tasha,” Sophie spoke up, “I bet if you ask him real nice, he’d love to have tea with us.”

Natasha nodded, as if Eliot’s reluctance was simply a lesson in manners, and smiled up at Eliot. “Please?”

Eliot sighed, and let Natasha lead him to the table.

At least Sophie had the decency to bite back her grin. Nate, on the other hand, turned to Natasha and asked, “I don’t think Uncle Eliot is dressed up enough, do you, Tasha? Should we give him something fancy?”

“Yeah!” Natasha nodded excitedly, bouncing in her seat.

“Here.” Nate unwrapped the boa from around his neck and slung it around Eliot’s. For a fraction of a second, Eliot considered snapping his arm out and clamping down on Nate’s arm, but he didn’t think Natasha would take that well.

Sophie had been mostly quiet, probably afraid that they’d push Eliot over the edge and he’d do something to upset Tasha, but now that he was sitting (if rather grumpily) at the table, she didn’t have a problem handing him a cup of tea and a plate of rubber eggs. “Natasha made all the food special,” Sophie said when Eliot looked dubiously at the fake food. “She told me she was cooking the way her Uncle Eliot taught her,” she added quietly, giving Eliot a little nudge with her foot to emphasize her point.

Natasha was looking at him expectantly, so Eliot reluctantly picked up the floppy fake eggs and held them up to his face, “Uh . . . Yummy,” he mumbled, but it came out more like a grunt.

Natasha shook her head, “Nuh-uh! You gotta eat it!”

“Eat it?” Eliot repeated, shifting in his too-small chair, “How am I supposed to eat it, it’s made of r—”

Sophie slapped his arm lightly. “Like this,” she picked up the fake muffin on her plate and held it in front of her mouth, making over exaggerated chewing noises that would send any etiquette teacher running for the hills.

Eliot sighed, and copied Sophie until Natasha grinned again. “It’s very tasty,” he said, trying his best to sound sincere. Natasha, thankfully, didn’t pick up on his reluctance.

“I think this needs to be documented,” Nate said, standing up and pulling out his phone.

“Don’t you dare, man!” Eliot snapped, putting down his teacup.

Nate snapped a picture, “Too late. I just think Parker and Hardison deserve to know how things are going, that’s all.”

He was answered with a death glare that usually had braver men quaking in their boots. Nate simply smiled.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker stood at the window, arms crossed over her stomach, scanning the sparkling city before her. Hardison had gotten them a room with a view so beautiful that she almost wasn’t tempted to sneak up on the roof later. Almost. She needed to think, and she did her best thinking up high, or upside down, or lying in wait in an air vent. So maybe she _should_ steal up to the roof, to come up with a plan before Har—

Hardison snuck up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

Parker jumped, and froze up for a second before letting herself relax.

Hardison let go of her, stepping backwards, looking surprised. “Everything okay, babe?”

“Mmmhh?” Parker mumbled, moving back into Hardison’s arms. “What?”

Hardison, kissing Parker’s head, frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t think I’ve ever surprised you before.”

Parker shrugged it off, keeping her face in the crook of his neck, “I was thinking.”

Hardison opened his mouth to argue that he’d interrupted her thinking about jobs and cons many times before, and had never made her jump, but instead he leaned back, cupping her face in his hand and kissing her.

Parker pulled away with a contented sigh, keeping her eyes closed.

“We don’t have to keep the reservation, if you’d rather just hang around here,” Hardison said, running his hands up and down Parker’s arms. “It was a long flight.”

“No,” Parker shook her head, “I want to go to the restaurant.”

“Okay,” Hardison smiled, giving her another quick kiss before letting her go so they could change for the restaurant.

They strolled through the city together, and for a while it seemed like Parker let go of whatever it was that was on her mind (because it was apparent to Hardison that _something_ was bothering her). The restaurant was nice (expensive as _hell_ , but nice) and of course, the company couldn’t be beaten. All in all, it was a wonderful evening.

 

~o0o~

 

“Did we really have to use the coms to go _shopping_?” Eliot grumbled into his earbud, “Why can’t you do anything like normal people?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sophie asked, raising an eyebrow even though Eliot couldn’t see her. She was standing outside the mall, laden with shopping bags, keeping a firm grip on Natasha’s hand, waiting for Nate and Eliot to get the car. “Besides, this made it easier to take advantage of the sale.”

“I just don’t understand—” Eliot stopped.

Sophie looked up, surprised (very few things halted Eliot mid-grumble). She could see Nate and Eliot way across the parking lot, but Eliot wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at something to her left. . .

Sophie turned, and Eliot took off running.

There were three men facing Sophie, and judging by the looks on their faces, they weren’t there to compliment her on her fashionable new purchases.

The man on the right lunged for Natasha, but Sophie was just a hair faster, pulling the child backwards into her arms, which left her back exposed to the guy on the right. He grabbed her shoulder and arm from behind, trying to jerk her away from Natasha.

Sophie kicked out at the guy behind her, and her foot connected with his shin, but this threw her off balance. The man in the middle gave her a hard shove. She fell onto her side, skidding across the concrete.

Natasha screamed.

 

~o0o~

 

Parker laughed, loudly, and for an extended period of time, ending with a little snort.

Hardison grinned, running his fingers over her hands resting on the bridge’s railing. “I’m telling you, girl, that’s how it happened.”

“I believe you,” Parker said, still smiling, gazing out at the water below them instead of at her husband. They’d stopped on the bridge to watch the sunset, but the sun had just dipped below the buildings, and the glare on the rippling canal was gone, so Parker could watch the colors in the sky reflect on the water without being blinded. They stood in silence for a few minutes. There were other clumps of people up and down the bridge and moving slowly around them, but for once Parker didn’t feel exposed, or too visible, or out of place. “Hardison?”

“Yeah?”

Parker hesitated, wrapping her arms around herself.

Hardison noticed. “You cold, babe?”

“Uh,” Parker bit her lip, eyes darting to the side. “Yeah, a little.”

Hardison slipped his arm around her shoulder. “You wanna go inside?”

“No.” Parker leaned into Hardison as he ran his hand up and down her arm. “I’m fine.”

Hardison looked her over carefully, and took a measured breath. “You worried about Natasha?” It was obvious that she was preoccupied with something, and had been for the entire vacation, but he hadn’t pushed.

Parker sighed, “Not worried, exactly. I miss her.”

Hardison nodded, “I understand.”

Parker finally looked at him, forcing a smile. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

 

~o0o~

 

Sophie tried to scramble to her feet, but the man she’d kicked and the one that shoved her each grabbed hold of one of her arms, yanking her up and holding her tight. The remaining man had ahold of Natasha, gripping her arm in his hand. Natasha continued to scream, and the man was currently trying to silence her. Sophie did her best to fend off the men holding her, using elbows and feet to fight them, trying to loosen their grip so she could get to Natasha.

Tires squealed, and Lucille swung up to the curb next to them, Nate jumping out of the driver’s seat. Eliot came running up from the parking lot, popping out from behind the van, heading straight for Natasha. He stopped a few feet in front of the man holding her, between him and the two restraining Sophie.

Sophie continued to struggle, and Nate started for her, but she heard a click and felt the barrel of a gun press into her side. She froze, and Nate stopped moving. It wasn’t because they feared the gun, or because they thought themselves outmatched, but because they wanted the bad guys to _think_ they did.

The guy on Sophie’s right—the one with the gun—whispered to the guy on her left, “Hey, let’s just take the woman. A hostage is a hostage, even if we don’t get the kid.”

Sophie and Nate exchanged glances, both aware of the implications of those words.

“I’m gonna say this once,” Eliot said to the man holding Natasha. “Let her go.”

The man narrowed his eyes, and wrapped his free hand around Natasha’s middle, lifting her in the air and using her as a shield.

“See,” Eliot gave a grim little smile, “That’s the opposite of what I said.”

They all moved at once, Eliot lunging forward, popping the guy in the nose, Nate knocking away the guy on Sophie’s left, Sophie using her now free hand to grab onto the gun at her waist and shove it away from her body.

The guy holding Natasha stumbled back, one hand going to his nose. He had an arm around Natasha’s belly, but she was still squirming and screaming, and he was losing his grip. Trying to fight while holding a four-year-old meant that he only had one hand free, and was always off balance, so when he swung at Eliot with his nose-blood covered hand, it was comically easy for Eliot to snatch his fist out of the air.

Eliot stepped in close, holding the man’s fist in one hand and using the other to pry his arm away from Natasha, who slid to the ground. As soon as she regained her feet she ran around to stand behind Eliot. Her screaming had stopped, but tears were still pouring down her cheeks.

              The man, free of his burden but also his leverage, in one final act, slammed his head into Eliot’s.

Eliot simply chuckled, while the man groaned and his head rolled backwards. “Gotta hit with the crown of your head,” Eliot said, “Otherwise it hurts you more’n them.” He released the man’s arms, and prepared for a final blow, but instead the man swayed for a few seconds, and then dropped to the ground.

Eliot shrugged, and spun around to see Natasha safely in Nate’s arms, nestled between him and Sophie. They’d taken care of the other two guys, thanks in part to the taser that Parker had long ago convinced Sophie to carry with her.

“We should get out of here,” Eliot said, glancing around. They’d attracted a bit of attention, but so far it didn’t appear that anyone had done anything but stop and stare. “Nate, help me get these guys in the van.”

“Do we have to take them?” Sophie asked, wrinkling her nose and taking Natasha from Nate, who moved to help Eliot.

“You heard the guy,” Nate said, “They were after Natasha specifically. We need to know why, and who hired them.”

Sophie sighed, knowing that Nate was right, but wanting to be done with the whole thing. “You better have a place to interrogate them, Eliot, because we’re not bringing them back to the brew pub.”

Eliot slammed the van’s back door behind the final unconscious goon. “I know a few places.”

“Uncle Eliot!” Natasha called, and Eliot was at her side in an instant. She held out her arm to him, sniffling.

“She’s got a bit of a boo-boo,” Sophie said, steel in her eyes.

Eliot gently took Natasha’s arm, kissing the marks left on her skin by the goon’s grip. “All better, sweetheart, right?”

Natasha nodded, smiling.

Sophie watched Eliot’s face carefully. This was one of the few times she’d ever been seriously afraid of what Eliot might do to another human being. What scared her even more was that she fully endorsed whatever actions he decided to take.

A noise came from the van, and Eliot lost no time yanking open the back door and hauling himself inside. One of the men—the one that’d grabbed Natasha—was up and struggling to stand. He tried to take a defensive stance when he saw Eliot.

Eliot just shook his head, “You gave my niece a boo-boo. You really think this is going to turn out okay for you?” He didn’t give the man time to answer, popping him in the head twice in quick succession, until the man slumped back down next to his comrades. 

 

~o0o~

 

Parker snuggled up closer to Hardison on the large bed in their hotel room. She let her head fall sideways onto Hardison’s shoulder, staring down at her phone.

Hardison was scrolling through his tablet, looking through online reviews of restaurants near them, but when he heard Parker’s contented sigh, he put his tablet aside. “Whatcha looking at, babe?” he asked, slipping his arm around her waist.

“Tasha.” Parker angled her phone so he could see. It was the picture that Nate sent the other day, the one of Tasha, Eliot, and Sophie at the tea party. Parker had zoomed in on her daughter’s grinning face.

Hardison smiled, “She’s really something, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Parker swiped through a few more photos until she got to another one of Tasha, this time playing with a few friends she made at the park. “She certainly is.”

“Oh!” Hardison sat up straighter, “Remember when we came in and found her teaching her stuffed animals to grift?”

Parker laughed, rolling her eyes, “I still think Aunt Sophie had something to do with that one.”

“Or, when she—what was it?—she told that man in the store that he couldn’t drink whiskey because—”

“Because ‘that’s Uncle Nate’s job,’” Parker finished, nodding, “Yeah, she’s . . .” Parker trailed off, and then looked back up to meet Hardison’s eyes. “She’s pretty amazing.”

Hardison nodded, unable to articulate his agreement.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, scrolling through the pictures of Natasha on Parker’s phone, the quiet only broken by small chuckles at the memories the pictures brought to the surface.

“You ever think about having another kid?” Hardison asked quietly.

Parker froze.

 

~o0o~

 

“What did you find out?” Nate asked into his earbud, glancing behind him where Sophie was sharing an ice cream with Natasha at the brew pub bar.

“They work for Richard Beauchamp,” Eliot said. He had taken the goons to an abandoned warehouse he’d scouted before. It hadn’t taken much persuading to get them to give up their employer, once again proving their incompetence.

“The furniture guy?” Nate asked, surprised. He hadn’t thought that Beauchamp was someone that had the resolve to try and get revenge, and the fact that Nate underestimated the man was probably why he’d gotten so close.

“Yeah,” Eliot grunted. “He did some digging, found out everything he could about the team, which led him to Natasha—”

“Or his guys that took Hardison told him,” Sophie interjected quietly, trying to keep Natasha from hearing her words. “Remember, he told them about Tasha and Parker.”

“Regardless,” Eliot said, “He’s pissed we took him down, and I doubt these are the only guys he’s going to send after us.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Nate said, voice hard. “Just like we always do.”

 

~o0o~

 

Parker hesitated. “Do _you_ want more kids?” she asked finally.

Hardison could tell that Parker wasn’t going to answer until he did, so he shrugged easily, “I’ve thought about it, and I wouldn’t mind. I always figured I’d try fostering at some point, but of course it depends on what you want.”

Parker bit her lip, looking down at her lap.

“Though, we might have to reevaluate how we do cons and what jobs we take,” Hardison continued, “Since two kids would be a lot harder to deal with than just Tasha.”

Parker didn’t look up, thinking about the job, the people they help, the guys they take down, and about the house Alec fixed up for them in Los Angeles.

Hardison was still talking. “I’m more than happy with what I have, but ultimately, yeah, I think I’d like another kid.”

Parker smiled and kissed him. She leaned back, looking into his slightly surprised eyes, and said, “Good, because I’m pregnant.”


End file.
